Educating Hermione
by UltraAmbiguousID
Summary: A Marriage Law Challenge MLC , EWE. Incomplete and I am undecided how the storyline will playout. HG, SS, DM, HP, GW, RW, a wee bit of Hagrid, McGonagall and Flitwick. There are two original characters, but they are mere background.
1. Chapter 1

1.

Hermione Granger sat in the Great Hall, her breakfast half-eaten as she deliberated her plans for the upcoming Christmas break.

Ron had extended his parents invitation for her to stay with them at The Burrow, of course. Ron had given her such a syrupy look while waggling his eyebrows that she instantly knew what his hol gift to her would be. Their relationship had neither moved forward nor back since the end of Voldemort. They snogged a bit. They felt each other up a bit, more on his efforts than hers. The last two times she'd nearly got away without hexing him. Not that she didn't want to be with him. He was after all a formidable Quidditch player and a hero. And her friend.

He smelled thickly of man and she liked that bit. She enjoyed the snogging – at times. But, she was gradually realizing they had little to actually _talk_ about. Ron had never been... academic. He didn't read books. He tried to be supportive of her desire to finish school properly, but he'd offered several times to support her. She didn't like that at all. Ron talked of Quidditch. She talked of academics. Sometimes they talked about Harry or Hagrid.

Hermione frowned and gave a deep sigh.

Harry wanted her, and Ron, to stay with him in his overly large and overly empty home at 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry still retained his boyishness. How anyone would ever take him serious as an Auror with his unruly hair, thin frame and modest demeanor she'd never know. At least Harry and Ginny were getting along well. Harry had been all eagerness to share his home with his two best mates for the holidays. Harry was truly heartfelt.

Still...

Hermione chewed her lip. She wanted to stay at Hogwarts to get ahead of her studies. It had been hard for her returning to the school to sit 7th year classes.

Particularly hard as Harry went off to Auror training at the Ministry and Ron fervently shucked his education for working at his brother's shop – Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

Her parents wanted her with them, of course. Hermione decidedly did not want to be cooped up all winter break with her parents She loved them, but she wanted to do right by them, too. She wanted to make them proud and she wanted to be proud of herself. She wanted, more than anything, to graduate and succeed in life by her own merits.

And so she had returned to Hogwarts.

She reviewed her 6th year texts in what little leisure time she had. The first month had been arduous, but she was feeling more settled - slightly. She reminded herself, again, that _not_ having Ron or Harry about gave her more time to think and read and prepare.

She was debating which NEWT-levels to sit in the spring. She had whittled her prospects down to arithmancy, transfiguration and… potions. There, she said it.

_Potions, potions, potions_, she muttered in her head.

She'd never thought she'd take up with potions, specially since Professor Snape had reminded her so often that she was merely adequate. However, after his death and the revelations by Potter to Voldemort in the Great Hall... this Great Hall, she had felt guilty about not wanting to pursue the field.

Ah, guilt.

A school owl dropped a crisp missive in her cold eggs. She fingered the heavy packet, turning it idyly over in her hand. She heard a gasp and looked about her.

The Great Hall was only half-full as many students had been killed in the war. Other parents had withdrawn their children allowing them to recuperate from injuries and sadness. Hermione scanned easily through the few scattered heads and spotted a Ravenclaw boy in shock. He was staring at the parchment in his hand as Headmaster Flitwick came to his aid.

"No!"

Hermione swung her head 180° to stare at a girl behind her. The gingery thing was on her feet, tears streaming down her nubile face. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall was patting the girl on the back, soothingly muttering nonsense as she delicately removed the letter from the girl's hand.

A few more gasps went up about the hall and Hermione looked down at her own hand. She had clutched the paper so tightly it had crumpled. She released her grip and laid the missive on the table. She undid the string slowly, setting it in a neat coil on her breakfast plate. She unfolded the corners with utmost care.

Hermione was no fool. She read the papers. She knew what the rumors were. Based on the reactions of the students about her, she dreaded what awaited. Her Gryffindor bravery would be her undoing. She unfolded the last corner, splaying the paper as flat as she could and began to read.

_Dear Miss Hermione Granger,_

_ Pursuant to Marriage Law 906W2..._

Hermione fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

Two days later and a small group of students sat in the Headmaster's office. Flitwick stood atop his desk looking over the distraught boys and girls. Professor Sprout and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall bookended the students with looks of concern. Professor Horace Slughorn, cajoled out of retirement to teach potions and lead Slytherin House, sat amiably in a stuffed chair. Professor Wilkie Twycross leaned against a bookcase with a hard scowl. He had been brought on as a full-time teacher, instructor of apparition and replaced Flitwick as Head of Ravenclaw.

"Now, you have all had time to read the letters you received from the Ministry. Yes, and the shock has been great for all of us." Flitwick coughed and cleared his throat. "You have each received a copy of the Marriage Law and I'm certain the implications are clear," he stated with utmost kindness. He took a breath and looked at each student before continuing, "You students are a small minority who have reached your majority. The Marriage Law states that because you are all muggleborns, you must marry a pureblood wizard, allotting you three months to accept offers and to choose a likely candidate. You are then expected to bear a child within a year of the bonding. These unions are expected to increase the much-depleted wizard population. Decidedly difficult, yes?"

The students each nodded to the floor. Ironic. They were being treated as children, yet the Ministry expected them to produce children.

"Your house leaders and myself have discussed the law and we have some encouraging news."

Hermione doubted that, but her curiosity brought her chin up a bit.

"You each of you must simply marry before the ascribed deadline." Flitwick glittered at the students.

Hermione frowned and tried not to appear too stupid.

Luckily a Ravenclaw girl burst out, "I don't understand, sir. How would marrying sooner help?"

"No, no, my child. Choose _anyone_ of marriageable age. You lot are in your 7th year, you have friends... you've been on, ahem, dates."

McGonagall cut in more smoothly, "Headmaster Flitwick is suggesting you find a friend whom you can marry, thereby nulling your conscription to the Marriage Law. You, some of you, have prospects or beaus?"

Hermione pondered this.

"S- so I could marry Tildy, then?" stammered a papery thin boy.

"Of course, of course, Mr. Wickwim. Miss Estilda Flump is of age and I know you two have an understanding," voiced Professor Sprout raspily. "If any of you have an... understanding you should talk it over immediately with that person. We are pushing you, but then the Ministry will push you harder to comply if you do not find a partner."

Hermione heard a couple gasps of relief, but couldn't bear to look about. She thought of Neville. Could she, would she want to marry Neville? No, she'd seen the way Luna had been looking at him since the last battle. Draco? No. Ron? Why not Ron? Hermione wasn't sure why not, but she knew... not.

"Ahem, yes. Uh, if not for love, at least you may find some measure of happiness." Flitwick looked pleased with himself.

Mr. Wickwim stood, "Uh, thank you Headmaster. I would very much like to talk to Tildy."

"Good, good. Of course, Mr. Wickwim. Luck to you and Miss Flump. You are excused, Mr. Wickwim."

Mr. Wickwim left very fast.

"Any others who think they may have, er, someone in mind may leave."

A couple more students left.

"You may, of course, find amongst yourselves an opportunity?" Slughorn offered quietly.

Hermione got up the courage to look at who was left. Two boys, six girls and herself. She didn't know any of them, but by face. She assumed they knew who she was since she was Harry Potter's friend.

She examined the girls. A couple were pretty-ish. They all had pleasing smiles which they suddenly turned on when they realized they were being scrutinized by the boys.

She glanced sideways at the boys. Both were squattish, brownish and peaked. The boys were trying to eye the girls behind her and Hermione found herself affronted. Brave and intelligent as she was, she held little attraction for most boys.

Her hair was too plain, too unruly. Her face was often pinched with worry over her studies. She was known amongst the students for being bookish and bossy. If that wasn't enough, her contempt for stupidity and laziness prevented her from ever using her femininity to placate or entice.

"Miss Granger?" said Professor McGonagall with grave concern calling Hermione out of her reverie.

"Uh, yes, Professor McGonagall?"

McGonagall did not say anything, simply continued to look with inquisitiveness.

Hermione firmed her mouth and shook her head as she looked down to the floor.

McGonagall looked surprised. Why surely Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley had an understanding?

"Those who feel they may have an option should, indeed, pursue it now. Those students who do not... well," Slughorn quirked his eyebrow as he looked to Flitwick.

The students continued to look sideways at each other.

"Uh, yes, well. If there are those of you who have no potentials, I understand the awkwardness of this situation. My staff will draw a list of eligible wizards and witches. We will write to them on your behalf. Better to do it now though and give them plenty of forewarning. Some will, of course, have their apprehensions. Others may not do at all. The more time we, and you, and they have to work things out... the better. We shall probably have replies by morning." Flitwick smiled his warmest at the poor sods. "Any questions? No? That will be all then."

Hermione stood with the other students as they began shuffling out the door. She paused at the threshold giving her a moment alone with the staff. She tried not to, but could not contain herself.

"Uh, how old would Professor Lockhart be?" She was blushing so much she thought she was on fire. All of the teachers exchanged knowing looks. Professor Sprout clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter as Mr. Slughorn smirked.

Sprout uncovered her mouth enough to giggle a reply, "He's about 40ish and yes, he's still eligible."

Hermione unbelievably became even redder. She stumbled out of the office with the faculty's laughter filling her ears.

***

Minerva McGonagall sat at her tiny desk in her tiny office. She was peering closely at the narrow book spread open on her desk. Flitwick had charmed two small books to reveal all the living eligible bachelors and bachelorettes between 17 and 80. Mr. Slughorn was given the witches to contact, McGonagall the wizards.

Minerva set her quill down and flexed her wrist. She had been writing notes for hours. It was not so much the writing which was tiring as the wording. She must be politely careful so as not to alarm the recipient while inferring the distressing nature for the communication. Time was the enemy, yet each note had to be personalized.

Minerva picked her quill back up, added another line to the note, and penned her name with a flourish. She set the feather back into its bronze stand, folded the note into itself to form a teeny envelope and tied it with a piece of twine. She gave a short whistle and a tawny owl flew through the window and landed on her desk. The owl held its leg out to her and Minerva attached the parcel about the thin appendage. The moment the paper was secure, the owl flew off large and silent.

Minerva let out a deep breath and drew another parchment to her. She noted she was at the bottom of the book leaf, turned the page over and -

Snape, Severus

Minerva was instantly furious. She swore at the book and swore again. She pushed back her chair heavily as she leapt to her feet. She grabbed her wand and pointed it with malevolence at the immobile book.

"How dare you insult me!" she was practically hysterical.

She applied several verbal and nonverbal spells. She hexed the book - twice. Then she threw it across the room. She began pacing, worrying her hands together in knots. Try as she could, she could not decipher who would play such a cruel prank on her. She had watched Headmaster Flitwick select the book from a stack and saw him cast the spell. The book had gone directly from Headmaster Flitwick's hand to herself. It had not left her grasp other than her setting it onto the blotter.

After a bit, she calmed down. She picked the book up by pinching a corner with distaste. She set it onto her desk and lowered herself into her chair.

"Now. We shall have at this again. I am warning you."

Minerva drew the book towards herself slowly. She opened the cover and methodically turned each leaf with care. She looked at the last name on the page of Se – Sm. She held her breath and turned the leaf over.

Snape, Severus

Minerva chewed the inside of her cheeks as she ground her teeth.

"Well, we'll just see, shall we?!"

She mutteringly reclaimed a parchment and dashed off the missive. Her anger causing her to break two quills making the writing all splotchy and smeared. Folding the paper as she'd done so many times that day, she whistled.

The owl that came this time had a whitish patch on its forehead. Minerva looked apprehensively at the owl. She held onto the note belaboring with herself. The owl continued to simply stare at her, bored with the routine.

"Certainly this joke has gone on far too long? Y-you have no where to go, little friend." Minerva looked askance at the owl.

Suddenly, Minerva tied the missive quickly to the owl's leg and just like that... it was gone. Minerva was aghast. Her mouth literally hung open. She rushed to the window, craning her neck to follow the direction of the swift creature.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Hermione sat on the floor of the Gryffindor common room with Neville and Luna close at her sides. She had a horrific cry after a fierce row with Ron. Ron had proposed, of course. Hermione had refused. He had clenched her upper arms in his hands so tightly that he left bruises.

He had been angry at her refusal. She wanted him, didn't she? She _had_ wanted him at one point. Now, she didn't. She couldn't say it to his face. How could she? How could she tell her good friend, the boy she had pined for these past years that suddenly she felt he wasn't smart enough for_ her_?

Ron had looked at her with his heart in his eyes. She had prepared herself well and then when the proposal came... she couldn't make herself accept. Friend or not, it was her life, too.

"Hermione, he does love you, you know?" Neville couldn't have been sweeter if made of spun sugar.

"I thought you cared for him?" asked Luna. Her eyes were limpid and red with her own tears of empathy.

Sniffing into her folded arms, "I do, I guess." Hermione didn't guess. She was fairly certain she did love Ron, but it wasn't enough. Had it ever been? She admitted to herself that she wasn't _in love_ with Ron Weasley.

"I just- I just don't know." She'd thought she was done crying, but the tears started rolling again. "It's not enough. What Ron and I have, it isn't enough. We only talk of Quidditch or Harry. We don't talk of anything of meaning! I know it's too late to think of love, but... but I want... we won't have anything to say. I don't want to grow to hate him or him to hate me because we have nothing to talk about."

"Talking is important," said Luna with her clear simplicity.

Luna and Neville continued trying to console their friend with back pats and murmurings. Luna made eye contact with Neville over Hermione's bent head. A moment of understanding passed between them. Luna excused herself. Neville offered Hermione another tissue.

"Her-Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Um, well, I know you might not think of me this way, but," Neville hitched his breath. "I'm not the bravest and I'm certainly not the smartest."

"Oh, Neville. You're as smart as anyone. Stop putting yourself down."

Neville licked his lips and thought of kneeling. If only they hadn't already been seated on the floor already.

Hermione was getting a headache from crying. She rubbed her temples and tried to calm herself. She looked up when Neville suddenly took her damp hands in his grasp. Neville looked deeply into her eyes.

"Hermione? Wi-will you marry me?"

Of all the pain Hermione had been through that day, to have Neville ask her that?!

"Oh! Neville!" Hermione fled to her room, locking and warding her bedroom door after her.

***

Minerva sat at her desk very, very early the next morning. She had her thick robe pulled about her as she sipped hot tea. Her hair was still in twists of ragging and in the candlelight she looked thirty years younger. Oddly, in one long night she felt forty years older.

She was reading the replies to her messages, discarding the papers quickly. She either drew lines in the magicked book in front of her or placed check marks next to names. There were many names crossed out.

She just discarded another note and leaned close over the book's page. She was about to draw a line through

Finich, Coswald

When a decidedly worse-for-wear owl skidded ungainly and abruptly onto her desktop, knocking papers every which way.

The owl overcame its momentum with great sweeping backstrokes of its heavy wings. It wavered uncomfortably for a moment as it tried to find its balance on one leg. The other leg was severely hobbled, held up to minimize its contact with the desk's surface. One claw of a talon gingerly touching and then retracting in pain several times. The owl was tawny no more. Instead, it was singed in many places, feathers stunted and burned. A bit of smoke rose from one ear.

Minerva stared at the owl and the owl glared back at her. Minerva noted the patch of white – now gray with ash – on the forehead.

Minerva swallowed hard. It took effort for her to stand and walk to a wall cupboard. She opened the cupboard doors and selected a heavy jar. She uncorked a dead shrew from the container and held the little corpse out to the owl. The owl turned its head 140° and refused to look at her. Minerva opened the jar again and pulled out two more shrews. She laid them in a tidy row on the desk.

"I am certain you deserve more. If you don't mind waiting?"

The owl tried not to look with too much affection at the tasty vermin. It gave a high pitched squick and held the injured leg out to her. Minerva sat the jar on a corner of her desk, unfastened the note and watched the owl gulp down (head-first) its reward.

With shaking hands, she unfolded the square of paper and read,

_Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall,_

_Let a dead fellow lay, why don't you?_

Minerva fell into her seat. She'd recognize Severus' writing anywhere – the spiky, tight writing of an emotionally closed soul. Her heart was beating fast and she turned the little note over several times in her hand before clutching it tightly to her breast.

"No signature. No address."

Minerva stared at the owl, wishing for something. She brought out her wand with careful deliberation. The owl watched her with hooded eyes as she brought the tip closer to the animal's head.

"I'll give you a whole jarful. Wouldn't you like that? All I need is a tiny bit. I'm not even sure if it'll work... " she trailed off as she tried to maintain eye contact with the bird.

She thought the owl would flee, but it didn't. She touched the tip of her wand to the owl's head, just above the whitish (grayish) patch. She withdrew the tip, trailing out a thin, gossamer bit of blue memory.

"Oh, you are a brave bird!"

Minerva carried her wand with the slender memory whispily quivering from the tip, over to her pensieve. It was a small stone bowl set onto a pedestal in a corner. She let the end of the memory dip and fall into the swirling water before she prodded the entire length down into the coolness.

She set her wand on a shelf, then removed her spectacles, folding them tightly and placed them on a shelf, too. She then sucked in her breath and plunged her head full long into the memory of the bird.

It was a short memory and quite foggy...

A fast descent into a squalid, brickish area to a graceful landing on a stoop. It pecked at the wood door until the door was edged open.

"What do you want?!" came the heavy sneer from the dark crack.

The owl held out its leg with great felicity. It'd never been here before and so, without any clue as to the inhabitant's true nature, hoped for a large reward.

A pale hand crept out and snatched the note before slamming the door.

"Wait!" came the harsh response. A moment later the door opened again. And again a white hand came out to tie a reply about its leg. The owl looked up into the void.

"Well?"

The owl continued looking. Since its point wasn't getting across, it fluffed itself up to look more beautiful and gave a baleful appeal to the occupant.

"Hardly."

Before the owl could blink, a wand was pointed at itself. It squawked and tried to rise fast. It was a quick owl, but the hex burst its feathers in a spark of fire and it was sent somersaulting over itself. It crashed into a pole and slumped onto the ground. It wasn't severely injured or mortally injured. Its pride was certainly hurt.

It turned its head 140° to look at the doorway.

The voice from the blackness spoke with obvious glee, "Be sure to tell your friends."

The door snicked shut.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Harry sagged onto a kitchen chair at Grimmauld. He stared at his meager meal, coldish stew with bits of old bread. Gosh, he couldn't wait for Ginny and him to get hitched. Ginny was a glorious cook, just like her mum.

"Eww, uh, really, Harry. Couldn't we have gone somewhere to eat? Even my parents house woulda been fine." Ron stirred the pot of meakley stew and eventually plopped some into his bowl. He grabbed a spoon and sat opposite his friend. "It's not like I can't treat you once in a while."

"Yeah, I know. I just thought we should talk private."

They didn't speak for quite a bit. They both grimaced over their food, but it was surprisingly tasty despite the consistency... or the temperature... or the appearance. Ron avoided Harry's eyes the whole time. When they'd both eaten their fill and done the washing up, they decided to play a game.

Harry led the way into the living room where he plopped himself onto the floor. Ron grabbed a chess set from a table and set it gingerly between Harry's outstretched legs and his own.

The game was played with no talk. Ron set the pieces for a second game. Harry fingered his black pawn as he spoke.

"You gonna say or not?"

"What's ta say?"

"Well, ask her again."

"What's the point?"

"The point is she loves you."

"Sez you."

"Says anyone who's every seen her ogling you."

"That mighta been, but not now. She's even avoiding me." Ron claimed Harry's castle.

"What'dya do to piss her off?"

"What makes you think I did anything?!"

"'Cuz it's always your fault."

"Well, I haven't done anything."

"Maybe that's the hitch."

"Huh?"

"Maybe she expected you to _do_ something."

"Like what?" Away vanished Harry's other castle.

"Like... I don't know. Did you get on your knee?"

"Uh, I don't 'member."

"That means no."

"No, I guess I didn't. Still, Harry, you shoulda heard the way she spoke. It was like I was the worst person in the world. Checkmate, by the way. Almost like she thought I was, well, a Death Eater or something."

"That'd be your words, not Hermione's. You know she didn't think so bad of him as we did."

"Who?"

"Snape."

The board was reset and they began their third game.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You really couldn't talk to her yourself? Find out what I did or didn't do, could you?"

"I 'spose I could. Can't get over there til the weekend, though. It's not like you have much time, Ron."

"I know, I know. Coor, you think she's waiting on a fat ring?"

"Nah, 'Mione's not the type. 'Sides, she knows you ain't got the lolly."

"True." Ron casually took Harry's queen. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Ron looked square into Harry's eyes for the first time that evening. "You don't think she's in love with someone else, do you?"

Harry thought very fast. He honestly didn't know why Hermione rejected Ron's proposal. He wasn't certain if it was his business anyway. He looked into his friend's eyes and wondered what Ron could have done wrong. He shook his head slowly.

"No, no, Ron. I'm positive Hermione's not in love with anyone else."

***

Minerva noted small bits of ash on the sidewalk in front of a house in Spinner's End. She saw a wood pole with a bits of down stuck in a splintery and scorched crack.

Nodding to herself, she stepped delicately onto the step, raised her fist and knocked at the front door of Snape's home.

She waited, but heard nothing from inside. She knocked harder.

"Y-e-e-ssss?" The strongly drawled baritone was directly the other side of the door.

"Severus Snape, you open this door this instant!" Minerva considered what she would do if it became a standstill.

The door was wrenched open a few centimeters. All was black within except for the white hand on the door frame and the white face of Snape. He looked down his nose at her, eyes thickly hooded. He appeared slightly amused with his lips quirked up at the corners.

"What an unpleasant surprise, Deputy Headmi-"

She didn't let him utter another syllable. Minerva flung herself at him, propelling Snape back into the hallway. She clutched him in a warmly, motherly hug.

"My boy, oh, my boy. Oh, my dear child."

"Uh, yes." Snape patted her quickly and harshly on the back for a moment and then extricated himself out of her grip. He shut and warded his door nonverbally while illuminating several lights.

Minerva retrieved a tissue out of a pocket and dabbed at her swollen eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Headmaster Flitwick welcomed Hermione into his office. He gestured to a chair and offered her a small glass dish of various sweets.

"Uh, no thank you, sir." Hermione eyed the paintings on the walls, seeking out Dumbledore's. Many of the paintings were black.

"Uh, Headmaster? Where is everyone today?" At Flitwick's widened eyes, Hermione tilted her head to the walls.

"Oh, uh, there's a new painting being added in a third floor corridor." Flitwick looked like he was going to add more information, but then smiled broadly.

"Just a new painting? Wouldn't think that'd be much interest?"

"Well, not necessarily. Depends on the, uh, subject matter. Some genres and artists are apt to draw more attention... particularly if it is, uh, by oh say, um, a Peter Paul Rubens."

Hermione got it. She smiled down into her lap.

"Now, Miss Granger, let us proceed." Flitwick picked up a parchment from his desk. "Professor McGonagall has received all the replies. She went over the list, excising those names which are definitely no longer available and which presented, uh, problems."

"Problems, sir?"

"Well, anyone who had gotten married, but was not in the wizarding registry. Those with, um, paramours."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. She never would have considered...

"Those wizards who have been listed as dangerous or volatile with the Ministry. Wizards whose leanings would not entail the interests of the opposite sex."

Hermione's eyebrows inched higher. Well!

"They must speak English, or course. And Professor McGonagall and myself took the liberty of removing the names of those wizards who lived at too great a distance. Neither of us thought you would wish to live too far from your parents?" Flitwick looked questioningly at Hermione who nodded gratefully in agreement.

"And we removed those which we remember as students being... incompatible with a lady as yourself."

Hermione pondered this tidbit. "You mean students who were ungentlemanly?"

"Not just respect for women, but morals regarding their education and their treatment of other students. Those students who also had problems with... er, muggle borns. Not every insolent boy grows up to be an insolent man, Miss Granger, but the rule holds true more oftener than not."

Flitwick handed the list to Hermione. She read the names off to herself.

"Uh, sir? Most of these men are in their 70s."

"And why not? Wizards live twice as long as muggles. We mature slower. We marry later, have children later."

"But, sir, I know Harry Potter's parents were married right after completing school as were Ron Weasley's parents."

"Those were trying times, Miss Granger. War forces everyone to make decisions they would not ordinarily. Rest assured though, advanced age does not necessarily make a wizard wiser for it. I am certain your own vast experiences during the war have wizened you more than your mere 18 years? You feel older, more mature than some of your other friends?"

Hermione nodded again. She definitely felt older than most of her friends. She'd always felt more mature than them – specially Ron. Maybe that's why she was so bossy all those years? It wasn't simply officiousness. She acted older and she'd expected her friends to, too. And now that she saw Ron hadn't grown up...

"Well, think of it in muggle terms. We wizards would be half our stated age."

Hermione blinked at that. "So then, Dumbledore would have been about 80?"

"Yes, or thereabouts."

Hermione scanned the list for Gilderoy Lockhart. She glanced up at Flitwick. "Professor Lockhart is 42, so he'd be about 21?"

"Well, in Professor Lockhart's case, let's say more like 15."


	6. Chapter 6

6.

The dining room of Malfoy Manor was grand in an obscene way. Thick velvet curtains lined all the walls, muffling sounds. Plush furniture betrayed the underlying hardness. Warm candles hid the cold palette. A new statue by Fydlstyks stood monstrously large in one corner as Bizzby played from an unforeseeable source.

Draco sat on his hard chair and thought wild thoughts. He used his knife to push his peas out of sight underneath the mashed potatoes. In his idyll, he forgot himself and set his elbow on the table to prop his head on his hand.

"Draco!" Lucius snapped his napkin viciously at his son's elbow which had found its way unbelievably onto the marble table.

"Lucius, let the boy be." Narcissa smiled warmly at her son, belying her anger at her husband. She would never, ever show her disappointment, let alone her temper in front of her son.

"I will not tolerate ill manners, no matter his fugue." Lucius turned from his wife to his son. "If you want to remain dejected, excuse yourself."

Draco looked startled. He had underestimated his father's anger. It was years since Draco had been told to leave the table.

"Yes, sir." Draco stood, pushed in his chair squarely. He bowed to his mother, "Good night, mother." Then to his father, "Good night, father,' and left the table quietly.

Knowing full well how long it took Draco to walk to his room, Lucius counted the seconds before turning again to his wife.

"And you will stop interfering in my disciplinary actions."

"Lucius, you must allow him time."

"He's had nothing, but time. His own, yours and mine!"

"Lower your voice, please." Narcissa was mortified to have her husband lose his temper twice within the hour.

"Admit this laxity is impeding his progress." Lucius' clear eyes flamed in intensity.

"I affirm he should return to school."

"And be humiliated? Put upon by those louts? He will be indefensible."

"He has no one, Lucius. No friends, not one. He's a boy. He needs to be with the other children."

"Nonsense. He is a man. If he will not act like one, I will force it upon him."

"And what do you intend for _our_ son?"

"Nothing so ominous, my dear. Perhaps an arrangement of some kind."

"An occupation?"

Lucius pondered into the distance. "You could call it that, my darling." Lucius tried not to smile to broadly into his dinner plate. The time had come... he was certain of it.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

Madam Pomfrey busied herself about the hospital wing – her hospital wing, thank you very much. She tucked sheets, straightened pillows and squared furniture just so. She tried not to pay attention to the Deputy Headmistress who was busying herself in Pomfrey's office. Pomfrey wasn't certain why Professor McGonagall took so much time checking and rechecking the supply cupboards.

"Madam Pomfrey?"

Pomfrey turned to see Professor McGonagall standing inside the doorway to the nurse's station.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"A word, please." McGonagall stood to one side of the doorway, clearly implying Pomfrey should join her inside the room.

Madam Pomfrey stepped into the small office reluctantly. McGonagall had never seemed so chilly before.

"Please, sit down, Madam Pomfrey."

Pomfrey nervously sat and ticked at her apron hem as McGonagall stood very still.

McGonagall crossed her arms and glared, "Madam Pomfrey, I have known you many years."

"Indeed, Professor McGonagall."

"I am surprised that you would harbor secrets. I am extraordinarily surprised you would harbor secrets from _me_."

"Whatever are you implying?"

McGonagall paused then said quietly, "Did you really think you have been helping Severus?"

Pomfrey gaped, but then shouldered her dignity, "I did what I could. I did what I thought was right by the boy."

"Of course, and he assured me himself it was all at his request, but, really? I thought you would know better. Taking it upon yourself to gather him from the Shrieking Shack. Flushing the poison from his system, healing his wounds. Tempering him with blood replenishing draughts. Waiting on him to recuperate. Shielding him. Letting us all continue to believe he was dead. Leaving _me_ to believe he was dead."

"Oh, no, Professor McGonagall, I do think I know better. He barely tolerates my presence at all. He does not want any one. That boy needs nor wants any pity."

"And he shan't have pity. He needs attention. He needs affection... now more than ever. We... I mean I have failed him, but no more. He deserves our gratitude. He may not want company, but he damn well is going to get it!"

Pomfrey's hands fluttered with emotion. "Professor McGonagall, I think that will undue him. He's always been a shy thing, you know."

"Well, that he'll have to overcome. I wanted you some time to gather yourself. An announcement will be made at dinner tonight."

McGonagall left in a stately huff.

***

Dinner was an overwhelming understatement of the word intersting.

It was incredible. Impossible. Ludicrous. Some students wondered if Deptuy Headmistress McGonagall had gone mad from turning into a cat so often. Some students were saddened by the news, others elated. Still others were concerned if Snape would return as their potions teacher. Shivers of foreboding ran up and down many finely strung spines.

Hermione felt a curious blankness.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

Several days passed in tumult. The Daily Prophet filled its pages with news of Snape's remarkable recovery. A special edition – _Snape Expos__é_ – was released in wide circulation. The wizarding world feasted and reveled in the speculative accounting of his tale. Reporters hovered on his doorstep, but Snape had long ago tuned out the annoying sounds of unwanted life.

He knew his secret would be revealed eventually, but he'd hoped for a wee bit more time.

_Damn Minerva and her meddling_.

He'd only opened the door to her because he knew if anyone would find a way to humiliate him out of his home, it would be her. Minerva knew how to fight dirty.

He didn't have that much money, but could get by for a year or so without worrying about an income. Luckily he'd saved his teacher's wages all those years. It was a wonder how much he squirreled away when Dumbledore offered free room and board at Hogwarts.

It's not like Snape spent money anyhow. He had no use for fine things. He barely ate. And... he had no obligations.

He spoke to no reporters. He did not reply to the Ministry's birds. The damn tawny bird he'd hexed must have squawked because the Ministry didn't send its usual owls.

Instead, large formidably imperious turkey buzzards alighted at his door. The first time Snape saw one leering at him through the mail slot, he'd dropped his cocoa down his shirtfront. He placed a console in front of the slot to block the unwanted glares. Now he found the console a convenient place to leave his gloves.

_How convenient that I placed the console there,_ he smirked to himself before remembering he rarely ever wore gloves.

He wondered why the damnable birds had to look so much like himself. White faced, black bodies, largely protuberant and hooked nose. Perhaps the Ministry had a sense of humour? Perhaps they thought a familiar face would warm his cockle-shelled heart?

Snape tried not to think too much of it. There was enough food in his larder to survive an inundation and he had his books. So many books and now... finally... all the time he could ever hope for.

***

Luna, Neville and Hermione sat to breakfast in the Great Hall. Hermione was about to spoon a bit of porridge into her mouth when an owl dropped a letter onto her hand. Wet stuff flew about and the spoon hit her teeth with a jarring sensation. She felt her lips for blood.

"No, you didn't split your lip, but it'll probably swell up," said Neville. He received a letter himself and busied about reading. Luna also had a letter – from her father.

Hermione picked up the soggy parcel, but received six more deliveries before she'd opened the first. She couldn't believe a couple of the letters and reread one of them three times.

The first was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley inviting her, again, to their home for the holidays.

Ron sent a letter with an apology and unbelievably, a poem. It was very sappy and poorly worded. She welled up anyway at Ron's ardor.

Harry invited her, again, to Grimmauld Place. He asked if she _did_ decide to come, if it'd be alright for Ron to visit on Christmas Day.

Professor Lockhart wrote to say he was delayed, but should arrive by Friday, Saturday at the latest. He was looking forward to taking Hermione to a delightful restaurant he remembered from his school days. He said it was a place of Persian intrigue and they'd be lucky to get a salad before a fight broke out.

Her parents asked when her train would arrive and would she like goose, ham or turkey this year.

Ginny sent a letter asking if Hermione felt uncomfortable visiting the burrow. If so, Ginny would come up with an excuse to give her parents, and to Ron. Ginny thought they could meet at Harry's home... if Hermione would like that instead.

The last message was a formal invitation to dinner – from the Malfoys. She gave a gasp.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" whispered Luna.

"No-nothing really. I-I don't know." Hermione looked to the head table.

"Hermione? Is there something I can do?" Neville asked all politeness.

"Neville, what are you doing for hols?"

Neville nervously looked to Luna. Did his proposal of a week ago still stand? Hermione wouldn't have changed her mind, would she? Luna gave him a placid calmness in return ad squeezed his hand under the table.

"L- Luna and I are going to visit her dad."

"Neville! Luna! That's fantastic!" Hermione leapt to her feet and hugged her friends across the tabletop.

"My dad's on the trail of something big, but he decided to take a break if I come visit. Neville and I are going to research some plants, too."

"Oh, Luna." Hermione felt her heart tugging. She could almost sense the feeling of matrimony... of perfect happiness about her friends. They deserved each other deeply.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

Hermione sat in the Headmaster's office. Flitwick sat on a heavily padded chair, several cushions high. Minerva was perched on the sofa next to Hermione.

"Headmaster, I see no reason for it except malevolence."

"Professor McGonagall, why would Mr. Malfoy want to harm Miss Granger _now_?"

"For spite. For amusement. For his own twisted revenge. I can think of many reasons why he would want to harm our student or any student."

"No, no. He renounced Voldemort. He's changed since the war. I am certain the invitation is a proper way of making mends."

"You-you really don't think he wants to harm me?" asked Hermione quietly. She was never one to be rude, but... the Malfoys... for dinner?

"Of course he wants to harm you, Miss Granger. Simply reply that you cannot attend. I'll make an excuse for you."

"Professor McGonagall, I don't understand your newly unfounded suspicions of everyone!"

Minerva gasped a bit. "What do you mean, Headmaster?"

"Professor Sprout was telling me you questioned her teaching the students about squishbloat. And Hagrid said you demanded an inventory of his current animals. And now you're libeling Mr. Malfoy?"

"Well, I'll have you know, Headmaster, I take my duties very seriously."

"Are you accusing me of dandering about?"

Hermione's eyes wavered back and forth between the two teachers. She'd never heard either of them raise their voices so heatedly before.

Before McGonagall could answer, Flitwick held up his hand. "Ever since you learned Madam Pomfrey kept Severus a secret, you've been worrying everyone. Perhaps the shock was a bit much?" Flitwick beamed a smile on the woman. He truly meant no harm.

Minerva hitched a sigh and patted Hermione's hands. "Yes, yes, I have been a bit cross, I do admit. However, there is no excuse for sending Miss Granger into the den without proper protection. Why not err on the side of caution?"

"Hmm, well that I will admit to. Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"Your invitation did include a guest?"

"Why, yes, sir."

"There, Professor McGonagall. Find a suitable escort for Miss Granger."

"Why, there's no gentleman I think would be proper to attend. Professors Slughorn and Twycross are too forgiving. Why not yourself?"

"Why I, I don't feel I would do justice to the situation. It would not be proper for me to escort a student. No, no, no. Let's see, Draco and his father Lucius... I do allow a strong wizard would be best. Think of someone else."

"Uh, how about Professor Lockhart?" Hermione chimed in.

Minerva pursed her lips in distaste. Lockhart wasn't a terrible wizard, just a coward. Did Miss Granger not understand that? Of course, if Lockhart were willing and if Miss Granger was truly in danger... surely Lockhart would come to the girl's aid if pressed?

"Well, Miss Granger, I suggest you ask Professor Lockhart when he visits. If he is agreeable, so am I. And if not, er, we'll find someone else to escort you, alright?"

Hermione smiled back at the Headmaster, "Sounds right, indeed."

Hermione stood to leave.

"A moment longer, Miss Granger. Do you have your list of potentials?"

"Uh, yes, Headmaster." Flitwick waved his hands at her. Hermione dipped into a pocket and handed the folded paper to the tiny man.

"Just a few changes to make." He crossed out several names and added one. Flitwick handed the paper back to her.

Hermione read the now shorter list. Her eyebrows hitched as she looked to the Headmaster.

"Pro-professor Snape?"

Flitwick spread his hands noncommittally, "He does fit the requirements, Miss Granger."

Miss McGonagall cleared her throat, "You mean Mister Snape now, Miss Granger."


	10. Chapter 10

10.

Hermione waited eagerly in the front hall of Hogwarts. She paced a bit, then sat rigidly on a chair. She waited with little patience for her knight to come to her. She had barely contained her joy when Gilderoy Lockhart had replied to McGonagall's missive.

Yes, Lockhart was still eligible. Yes, he fit the requirements. Yes, he would be immensely honored to meet with any of the ladies set-upon by the evil machinations of the Ministry. Did he remember Miss Granger? Of course! And how were her three sisters?

Hermione smiled when Professor McGonagall read Lockhart's reply aloud. Well, okay, he didn't remember _her _specifically, but there would be time for that... they would have the rest of their blissfully married lives to talk of such things.

She didn't care what Ron or Harry or Ginny thought of Lockhart. _They_ called him a coward, but she knew it couldn't be very true. He was too... dashing. He simply needed the right damsel to fight for. He was handsome, too. Hermione imagined herself twining his blonde curls about her fingers. Snuggling up to him at night, pressing herself into his shoulder and then... perhaps he'd allow her to kiss his perfection of a mouth with hers. Would she dare sully him? She warmed to the thought. He'd be hers.

Hermione had dashed off many letters over the past few days. She refused all invitations for the holidays, except to the Malfoys. What a pair they'll make, her on Lockhart's arm as they stride up to the front door. She could hear Mr. Malfoy's sneer, _Miss Granger, how elegant and intelligent you are! I need not have known you except for your handsome suitor! Engaged you say? Why felicitations to you and your gallant knight. May I grovel at your feet to acquire an invitation to the ceremony? No? Ah, well then my family and I shall pine away with humiliation. I do beg your pardon, Miss Granger. _

Hermione could not help smiling at her ludicrous notion. Still... she did expect her entrance with Lockhart to be surprising... at the least. And if dinner went badly, she still had the holiday break to enjoy in his company. She was granted permission to stay in her Gryffindor bedroom throughout the period. She'd study, visit her parents on Christmas morn and otherwise spend as much time in Lockhart's company as she could without appearing wanton. He would only have her and very few others to vie for his attention. Could she win him? Maybe not his heart immediately, but some measure of affection surely?

When Lockhart arrived, it was grandiose perfection.

The double doors of the entry flew wide apart as Lockhart strode into the center of the room. He placed his fists on his hips and struck a pose.

"I bid you all a good day!" he yelled cheerily to the few milling students. It took a beat to realize who was in their midst before everyone surged about him with calls of attention.

Hermione smiled and waited. Oh, yes, her knight had come.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

Gilderoy Lockhart might indeed be a coward, but the students, faculty and staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry found he could still charm the snakes from their lairs.

Lockhart sat at one of the long tables in the Great Hall, crowded by eager listeners to his many tales. He gesticulated wildly and effectively with sparkling blue eyes.

"Ya don't say, Lockhart?" Hagrid sat forward in rapt attention. The giant's meaty hands dwarfing the soup tureen.

"Indubitably! And not a moment too soon because the animal reared up with vicious intent to stomp me into the ground." The crowd gave a gasp.

"Why- why surely someone came to your rescue?" mumbled Professor Hooch in apprehension for the handsome wizard.

"Never fear! I calmed both heads with a song and all six legs were soon dancing to my tune."

A contented sigh escaped the listeners. Hermione beamed at her man, er, potential man. She felt the brush of a female student against her back and stayed the urge to elbow the crowding hussy. Raven hair tumbled across Hermione's shoulder as the girl leaned over and past Hermione. The girl laid her hand on the table in front of Hermione, straining forward to draw the man's attention.

"Professor Lockhart? Were you not scared at all?" the girl prettily said.

Lockhart turned his smile onto the young lady, "Of course I was scared! Everyone would be, however, not everyone would have the sense or foresight to have read up on the foibles of the smiddidge."

The girl pressed even harder into Hermione's back, breasts crushed against her. Hermione couldn't stand it any longer and leapt to her feet.

"Professor Lockhart?!"

All eyes turned abruptly to Miss Granger.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"You had asked about seeing Hagrid's new inventory... I think now would be a good time... before it gets too dark, sir." Hermione looked to Hagrid for help.

Hagrid, clueless as to Miss Granger's intent, yet eager to please, jutted in. "Why yes, Miss Granger, of course I'd love ta show Professor Lockhart me new things." Hagrid stood to his immense height. "Professor Lockhart? I do believe Miss Granger is right. Now's be as good as time as any what with hol break startin' 'morrow. I'll be off meself, so if you be wantin'?" Hagrid looked forlorn for any attention.

Lockhart craned his neck up to the giant and gulped. He wasn't quite certain if he was being asked or ordered.

"Oh, of-of course. Now would be a splendid time." Lockhart stood and held his elbow out to Miss Granger. Hermione placed her arm in the crook of Lockhart's and tried not to gloat too much. She'd never been the center of jealousy before and she feared she was enjoying the daggers thrown her way.

***

Neville and Luna sat at Hagrid's table as he poured tea out for them. Hermione knelt on the floor as she petted a leathery ball in her hands. Lockhart hovered near her shoulder, but could not bring himself to touch the... things. They looked too sharp and too dangerous in his opinion.

"Oh, it purrs, Hagrid!" Hermione's eyes grew larger at the delight.

"I was surprised a bit at Mr. Lovegood being able to find me a whole litter and mare. Me thanks again to yer fadder, Miss Lovegood." Hagrid smiled heartily then frowned as his biscuit fell into his beard.

"No, my father was glad to find a home for the stranded things. He wants to thank you, Hagrid,' said Luna softly. Neville nudged her with his elbow and tilted his head towards Hagrid. "My father still would like you to come visit. He has a camp and there's plenty of room."

"Oh, that's kindly o' 'im, but I already had me plans this hol. Perhaps the Spring?" Hagrid found the biscuit in his curls and a bit of toast. He squinched and wondered when he last had rye.

"Well, I think that could be worked out, couldn't it Luna?" Neville asked her. Neville had grown quite fond of Hagrid. It seemed they had more in common than he'd ever guessed.

Hermione still had the Whizzle cupped to her ear and then she held it up to Lockhart. He cringed with a smile on his face.

"Oh, Miss Granger, I'm afraid I won't be able to hear such things – partial loss, you see?" He pointed to his ear as if that was explanation enough.

Hermione instantly saddened at the news. "Oh, sorry, Professor Lockhart. I hadn't realized."

"No worry, Miss Granger. An old dueling accident. I nearly didn't survive. Luckily, my aim was true," Lockhart covered nicely. He roamed to the table and selected two tea cups. He brought them over to where Hermione sat on the floor.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione placed the Whizzle back into the crate with its siblings. She accepted the cup of tea gingerly and took a sip. Everything was going well. Lockhart sat down into a distressed chair and looked about.

Hagrid joined them and stooped down to spy into the crate.

"Miss Granger, are you sure you won't be wantin' me to escort ye? I could delay me trip a day, I 'spose. I have no fear of no Malfoy, no how."

"Oh, Hagrid, thank you, but really, I've already asked Professor Lockhart and he said yes."

Hagrid looked with a bit more respect, as if that were possible, to Lockhart. "That be true? You're to escort the lady?"

"Why of course! How could I turn down a fair damsel in need?" Lockhart reached down to pat Hermione's hand.

"Why you be a braver wizard than I, that's for sure."

Lockhart sloshed his tea. "And, and why is that? Dinner can certainly be of no dire consequence? Why, I've eaten at the edge of cliffs. On the sides of cliffs, my feet dangling over the precipice as I awaited the first rays of morning light... "

Hagrid interjected sternly, "It not be the dinner, but the company. Those Malfoys!"

"Hagrid, you mustn't think the worse. They say they're reformed," spoke Neville.

Luna chimed in, "And the Ministry accepts the Malfoys as having renounced Lord Voldemort. Mr. Malfoy has retained his old position."

"Yes, Hagrid, they should be given opportunities, don't you think? Harboring ill will is like... like never giving them the chance to trust them. We-we should be better than they are, don't you think?"

"I hear your words, Mr. Longbottom, but the idea of me Hermione bein' in the company of a Death Eater – two Death Eaters makes me blood hot!"

Lockhart's hand shook. "De-de-death Eaters?! Whose a Death Eater?"

"Mr. Malfoy and his son Draco, that's who! All the more reason to question their invitation. Why them and why now? No good ever came of _any_ Death Eater."

It got very quiet as the students each looked to each other in embarrassment.

"But, Hagrid, Professor Snape was... is a Death Eater," offered Luna.

"Well, he be different I know. It's not fair to be calling _him_ one or placing him along with the Malfoys. I don't like it, ya hear?" Hagrid turned harshly to Lockhart, "You be spry with that there wand 'o yours or else I'll have yer head in me hands, ya hear? No one be hurtin' me Hermione."

The lot of Whizzles began purring for a feeding and everyone welcomed the distraction.

Lockhart shrunk into his seat and tried to sip what was left of his cold tea.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

Gilderoy Lockhart escorted Hermione Granger all the way to the portrait hole of the Gryffindor House. She didn't really need to cling to his arm so – she was already floating on air.

He'd said everything he should have... and more.

They'd spend the next day together in Diagon Alley with some Christmas shopping and a light lunch. That evening they'd leave about 6ish for Malfoy Manor. Hermione already had the dress cleaned and pressed. She had only to figure something with her hair...

"My lady, until the morrow," he kissed the back of her fingers lightly. Hermione's breath caught. She gave a slight giggle and blushed.

"Oh, my!" sang out the fat lady with shock.

Hermione watched Lockhart swagger away and down the staircases. She leaned against the wall until her heart had slowed a bit. She lightly stroked the back of her fingers against her cheek, imagining Lockhart's lips on her face.

"Well, well, well. Wouldn't mind him straightening my frame, no, not at all."

"Oh, please," Hermione groaned as she dashed through the portrait hole and straight in to Ron.

"R-ronald?!"

"Hermione. We've gotta talk, see?"

His face was drawn and sad. She could tell he hadn't been sleeping. She nodded and led him to her bedroom where she muffled the sounds with a spell.

She set her wand down to remove her cloak and as she turned-

Ron was on his knee holding out a small velvety box. Hermione felt like she'd been sandbagged.

"Ronald!"

"Hermione... I know I might not have done this proper, so I guess I understand your refusal. I've always been a lout, but... Hermione," Ron gulped. "I love you. Will you marry me?"

Hermione was distraught. Her ears were pounding as her blood pressure increased. She felt tingles running through her skin and she was hot, very hot with anger. She hadn't imagined Ron would ask her a second time. She was unprepared. She was embarrassed. What now?

Ron watched her openly. He then flipped the lid of the small box open and held it out to her. "I know it's not much. In a year, maybe two you could select something a bit larger?"

He kept looking at her and she kept looking at him. What could she say?

"Hermione, please answer me."

"Ron, I don't want to marry you. I've told you before. It's not the ring, it's not the proposal. It's not even you... it's me!" She started breathing again and felt swimmy.

"But why not, Hermione? Everyone knows you were after me, well, after Krum. And now when I'm willing to marry you, you tell me now you won't?!"

"Oh, willing are you? That makes me feel so much better. And yes, I did think I loved you, but I've realized since that I don't. I do love you Ron, but I'm not _in love_ with you."

"but Lockhart you're in love with?"

"No. Maybe... I don't know. I just want the chance to find out."

"And then what? Come back to me? That's not how it's going to work. If I leave, I'm not hanging about waiting for you. There's others, you know."

"Oh, throw that in my face! Yes, of course there are others, there are always others, Ronald! Maybe that's part of the problem. I wonder if you're doing this because we're friends?"

"Course I am, who wouldn't? You are my friend. One of my two best friends. You're the smartest, bravest girl I've ever met. I like you despite yourself, that should be proof enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you never act like a girl. You don't fawn on me like the others. It's nice to know we can be together and not feel pressured, ya know?"

"So, I'm someone you can feel safe around, is that it? You like me because we're not always snogging? Then what happens when we marry? Will shagging be allowed or not?"

"Well, yes, of course, but I guess we'll get to that eventually. Oh, Hermione, you're getting me muddled. Look, I'll take you to the Malfoys tomorrow. You'll see. I'll be the proper gent and you'll be proud of me. Afterwards, we'll go somewhere alone and be ourselves and see what happens."

"First off, I already told you I don't want you taking me to the Malf- "

Ron interjected, "Why not?! You don't think I can sit at a table without slurping? We've eaten together at parties and such. I've got manners, Hermione!"

"No, Ron, it's not your table manners... The Malfoys aren't like _us_, Ronald. I don't want you to... feel left out. You'll embarrass yourself." Hermione trailed off. She hadn't meant to say that.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "And how would I do that then?" Ron's voice had gotten quiet. Hermione shook her head and avoided his eyes. Ron grabbed her by the upper arms and dug in his fingers as he shook her.

"Hermione! Tell me what you mean!"

Hermione's neck snapped and she knew she was crying. "The Malfoys are very... well-educated." Ron continued holding her arms in a tight grip. He was breathing heavily, particularly for him and she felt each hot breath against her face – it was not pleasant.

He spoke through clenched teeth, "I've been told I can be clever."

Hermione couldn't believe what she said next, "You've had _some_ moments." She wondered if a Weasley could ever strike a woman. If so, this would be the likeliest time.

Instead, Ron released his grip and left without a sound.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

Saturday was the first day of Christmas break. A light dust of snow crisped the grass and many windows were fogged from indoor heat. Harry and Ginny were sprawled on the living room floor of The Burrow. They were lazily playing a game of chess as they listened more to each others' heart than the voices about them.

Ron and George were at their shop. Percival and Bill, Molly and Arthur and Charlie lounged in chairs reading various international wizarding papers.

Arthur Weasley folded back his copy of The Daily Prophet and stabbed his finger at an article,

"There's your professor again, Harry."

All the Weasleys craned to see the paper in Mr. Weasleys' hand.

Harry saw a glimpse behind Mr. Weasley's thumb of an old photograph. Snape, – hair much shorter – was embarrassingly receiving his Potions Master certificate. Harry wasn't sure what he thought about Snape. His thoughts were too difficult to sort. Awe, respect, hatred, betrayal, confusion, frustration.

"Oh, what's it say, Arthur?" Molly Weasley kept to her knitting, but anything about Snape was of interest to her. She had snubbed the professor's reputation in the past and wouldn't let herself forget it.

Mr. Weasley brought the paper in close to his nose. "The Min-istry of Magic gov-er-nors are meet-ing to-day to dis-cuss the poss-i-ble a-ward-ship of a po-sit-ion for Mr. Sev-er-us Snape. Con-jec-ture re-gard-ing the as yet off-ici-al-ly un-stated po-sit-ion in-volves an op-ening at the De-part-ment of Myst-er-ies."

Charlie chimed in, "Well! That should be lovely and right by him. Beats pining in that ol' tinder box he's at."

"I think he deserves it, at least," said Ginny.

"Don't think he'll take it," Percival snuffed.

Molly rocked and knit, "Why not, dear? Surely he needs an income."

Percival stated clearly, "I'd heard at the Ministry that the Headmaster of Hogwarts is going to step down. They're all expecting Snape to step in to Flitwick's post. "

"Well, I've heard he's going to be offered his own school to teach – potions, Dark Arts and Defense. It's to be stationed in France. Funded by the Hogwarts alumni. Imagine! Your own school! Your pick of who you wish to teach!" said Charlie.

Mr. Weasley said with admiration, "Bloody good for him then!"

"Hmm, and he's not 40! Why that's almost indecent! I hope if that offer goes through the governors insist on proper chaperonage," said Molly.

Ginny debated before asking, "You really don't think Snape will take the post at the Ministry?"

Bill wisely answered, "Nah, it's not likely. Snape's never cared for attention... or money. I think he'd be grateful to simply have his old teaching post back. He might even prefer it."

Harry smiled up into Ginny's eyes, "That'll be a shock if you ever return to school, won't it?"

She tried to batt him playfully on the arm, "That's not funny, Harry." She began to chew her lip.

"Ginny, he's not _all_ that bad."

Mr. Weasley lowered his paper to eye his precious daughter. Mrs. Weasley dropped a stitch and waited breathlessly.

"Oh, I know." She was almost on the verge of crying.

Harry whispered, "Gin?"

Ginny shook her head and her coppery hair swung about. She suddenly stood and ran from the room. Harry began rising to follow. The Weasley men all stood from their chairs.

"Nah, nah, nah, that's okay, boys. Sit, sit, sit. Harry, love, give her a chance to cry it out," Molly tugged at his shirtsleeve gently. She waved her other hand at the men to sit back down. They all resumed their seats with slight apprehension.

"I-I didn't mean to make her cry. I didn't realize she would get so upset about Snape."

Mr. Weasley sighed, "Oh, it's not Snape, Harry. It's school. Ginny's still upset we didn't let her return to Hogwarts this past Fall. Her mum and I couldn't bear to let her return with... ya know, Fred just gone."

There was a moment of silence as each thought of the lost twin.

Mrs. Weasley's voice came softly and shakily, "Yes, she's already a year behind you, Harry. I think she's afraid an additional year will be too much between you two. It _will_ make it that much harder."

"That's foolish. I've endured much harder things," said Harry angrily as he dug his thumbnail into the carpet, tracing a pattern. The Weasleys barely heard him say, "I'll wait forever if I have to."


	14. Chapter 14

14.

Hermione turned her head back and forth as she admired her coif in the mirror. It had taken many, many pins to keep the locks piled up just so. She thought her neck looked quite pretty and the small tendrils framing her face were worth the effort.

She stood and brushed her hands down the front of her dark green velvety dress, smoothing the fabric and removing lint. She debated wearing jewelry, but didn't want to overdo her first day as a real lady.

And that's exactly how she felt. Ever since she woke that morning and prepared for her outing with Lockhart. She had agonized over every little thing - her hot bath, her choice of perfume, the dress, the shoes, her hair and the cosmetics. Ginny had helped her choose a few items from the Wonder Witch collection, but staring at all those tubes and bottles made Hermione swimmy with confusion. She settled on a simple smear of gloss across her lips.

Their morning trip had been glorious. Lockhart walked her all about Diagon Alley as they each shopped for Christmas gifts. He had chatted amiably and continuously with stories of adventure and peril. She had clung to Lockhart's every word as much as she'd held on to his arm.

He proved a gentleman, allowing her opportunities to interject with praises and admiration - for him, of course. He lauded each of her purchases and gave advice when asked. Sometimes, even before she asked.

She, in turn, noted his selections tended to be flamboyant, extravagant and... youthful.

After shrinking their gifts to fit into their pockets, they ate at the restaurant he had mentioned. It was a smallish and intimate place where the food was not quite so Persian as English. And no, Hermione never felt herself in grave danger - not once!

She hadn't minded paying her share of the bill either. Although she didn't think the tab should have been split quite so evenly as he ate a full dinner whilst she had a soup and sandwich.

Regardless, Hermione enjoyed her day and the stares of the passersby. At nearly every turn, Lockhart was accosted for signatures and snaps. She goggled at his ability to be so ingenuous amid the fawning crowds.

When he left her at her door, he had asked if he could kiss her. No matter that his lips missed her face completely, planting themselves in her hair, but it was enough to make her glow.

And her she was now, all donned and primped. And waiting.

He'd said he would come for her at 6. That would allow them time for a leisurely stroll before dinner at 7. At 6:10 she began chewing her lip. At 6:15 she sent an owl. At 6:25 she panicked.

She noted she was very alone in the school. Only a handful of students remained, either unable or unwilling to venture home for the holidays. Most of the professors were on well-deserved breaks having kept to a rigorous rebuilding schedule since the fall of Voldemort.

Hermione considered whether Dumbledore's portrait would be of help. She discarded Flitwick because he couldn't leave the remaining students unattended simply because her date hadn't shown. She chewed her lip a moment longer and resignedly gave in to the solution.

***

She rapped her knuckles very hard and very long on the wood door of Snape's home. She called out his name several times and listened for sounds within. She uneasily surveyed the buzzards hanging about. They eyed her in a way that was vaguely familiar. The large pile of letters and packages on the stoop were disquieting.

***

Mrs. Weasley opened the front door of her home.

"Why, Hermione! My dear, come in, come in." Molly leaned over the banister and bellowed up the stairwell, "Ron! Hermione's here!"

A pack of Weasleys alighted from seemingly nowhere on a mortified Granger. Everyone was all smiles and coppery and questioning her sudden appearance.

Mr. Weasley parted the crowd as he tried to take her elbow. "Come sit down and have a bit of dinner. Come now, Ron should be down any moment."

"Uh, no thank you, Mr. Weasley. I really haven't the time."

Ginny asked, "I thought you were going to the Malfoys tonight?"

"I am. I'm trying to. That's kinda why I'm here."

Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione a knowing wink. "I knew you didn't mean to slight Ronnie. When Ginny told me you were going with that Lockhart, well I said to myself, that doesn't sound like our Hermione, no, not at all." Molly turned to yell up the stairs again, but startled to see Ron standing just there on the steps. He was very still as he stood and watched Hermione.

Mrs. Weasley patted her son's chest, "Ron, go upstairs and put on your best now and don't be keeping Hermione awaiting. She musn't be late." Ron turned to go.

"No!," shouted Hermione. Everyone went silent. All their eyes were upon her, but she avoided Ron's stare. "I mean, I didn't... I-I thought Harry was here." Hermione was blushing furiously.

Ginny cocked her eyebrow and her lips became thinner.

"I'm here," came Harry's voice quietly. He was standing a few risers above Ron.

"Harry, I need to talk to you."

The Weasleys each looked at each other. Hermione tried not to notice Mrs. Weasley disappointment... or Ron's lack of any expression.

Harry edged around Ron as he came down the steps, then he led Hermione into a closed room.

"What's up?"

"He didn't show, Harry."

"I told ya. Ya shoulda listened to me."

"Let's fight about it later, okay? Right now I need you to come with me to the Malfoys. You're my date."

"You're joking!"

"No, I'm not and stop being so stupid." Hermione was wringing her hands. "Please, Harry. I've already accepted the invitation. Mr. Malfoy has his post back with the Ministry. If I don't show it'll be embarrassing to me, them and the governors."

"So what?! It's the Malfoys. It's not like they don't deserve to be humiliated. As much as possible I say. They can only be up to no good anyhow."

"Oh, Harry! You can't keep mistrusting people! Things would have been different if you'd only listened to Dumbledore!"

Harry was instantly mad.

"I-I shouldn't of said that... I'm so sorry, Harry."

"No, Hermione, you're right. I'm not angry at you, I'm angry at myself. I do keep thinking the worse of people." He waited a moment then tilted his head towards the door. "He's going to be rightfully pissed."

Hermione heaved a sigh. "I know. We had a row the other day. Did he tell you he proposed to me... again!" She shook her head, "I can't make myself fall in love. I wish I could, but I can't."

Harry nodded, "I know, Hermione. But I'm the one in the middle, ya know? Hey, I'll be only a minute."

"Thanks, Harry," she gave him a quick hug. They both looked knowingly at each other before he opened the door and they went back into the hall.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

One of the Malfoy house elves led Hermione and Harry into a large parlor. Hermione was disappointed. She'd thought her invitation implied an intimate dinner with Draco and his parents. Instead, the room was crowded with many wizarding folk.

The elf announced hers and Harry's name – a few turned to acknowledge their arrival – twenty seconds to spare.

Mrs. Malfoy glided up to them. "Miss Granger. Mr. Potter. Welcome to Malfoy Manor. So glad you could join us this evening."

Hermione devoured the site of the elegant lady. Not a hair out of place, graceful, commanding.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. Is that Shacklebolt?!" Harry vanished into the crowd.

"Uh, well, yes." Mrs. Malfoy hid her discomfiture with a strained smile. "Miss Granger, if you please. Allow me to introduce you to... "

Hermione lost track of the names and at what point she was handed-off to Draco. She had to admit he was gracious and attentive. The gathering was impressive with glittering crystals, jewels and flutes. She'd barely been introduced to half the personages when a bell called them to dinner.

Double doors were slid back into wall recesses revealing an appointed dining table and bluish room. Draco cocked his arm and led her to the crowd's tail. They were nearly to the entry when she heard the unmistakable timbre of Professor Snape's voice.

She turned abruptly and there he was – not too far. He was as lanky and lean as ever, perhaps more so. The thick blackness of his hair and dress coat contrasted jarringly with the pallor of his face.

He was turning from his companion when his eyes met hers. His jet eyes warmed for a moment and then widened in surprise as his eyebrows shut up. "Miss Granger?"

She gaped at him voicelessly. Feeling suddenly hot and awkward, she turned fast and ran into a marble statue.

"Ow!" she yelled and clapped her hands to her mouth. Copper flooded over her teeth and she became woozy. She'd split her lip.

A few guests stopped to watch the scene while others had the grace not to stare. Draco rummaged through his pockets for a kerchief. Hermione strained against swallowing, but excess saliva found its way to the back of her throat. She grimaced as blood coated her tongue. A sudden warmth at her back alerted her to the closeness of another person. The Professor spoke low to her ear, his breath moving her hair, "Miss Granger, you oughtn't bleed on what doesn't belong to you."

Hermione watched in fascination as his arm reached around her. He delicately touched the tips of his fingertips to the stone and brushed his thumb slowly across the surface. The blood vanished from the statue's surface as did his arm and then his person.

Draco was still holding out a cloth to her, his brow displaying evident concern. She hesitated. She didn't want to spoil the beautifully refined, and probably expensive (!) lawn article.

She saw Mrs. Malfoy waving her hands towards her and say exasperatingly, "Oh, Severus, fix her!"

Snape was in front of her in an impossibly fast way and very close.

"Miss Granger?"

She lifted her chin, but couldn't lift her eyes further than his mouth. She watched his lips move as he said, "Look at me." She remembered the last time she'd heard him utter that phrase and dropped her eyes as she blushed. She concentrated on his aubergine cravat and tried not to think of the heat he emanated.

His fingertips grazed her cheek with near imperceptibility. He swept his thumb across the cut. Then he pressed the pad of his thumb into her lip and held it there. She felt a surging tingle as when a foot is re-awakened from sleep.

She blinked and he was gone. She jutted out her tongue and prodded her lips. There was no more cut and she felt no more pain. Draco tugged her into the dining room.

***

Once Hermione received the Malfoy invitation, she had read two books on wizard dinner party etiquette. As she looked at her place setting, there seemed to be too many utensils, too many dishes and a ridiculous number of glasses.

Draco, on her left, elbowed her hard and leaned in to her ear. "Watch me," he hissed and she did. And so it proceeded. The elves gave them dollops of this food and smidgens of that food. Tiny servings on large plates which were exchanged for new ones the moment each course was finished.

The food was delicious. Hermione didn't even know what most of the dishes were, but she tried, and ate, everything.

She began to fall into the pattern and joined in the conversation amiably. It was very dull. All about the weather, the rebuilding after the war and rising prices. Not at all intellectual as she'd hoped nor as she'd feared on Ron's behalf.

Mr. Malfoy sat at the right end, a couple meters away. He would make a general pronouncement or ask a question of the diners who would hurriedly answer or intone their own statement and then fall silent. Many of the questions were directed towards herself or Draco. She found her attention wandering.

Mrs. Malfoy graced the left end of the table. Harry was way down there, too, near Kingsley Shacklebolt. Hermione noted Harry's glasses as they reflected candlelight every-which-way as his head bobbed.

The liveliest diners appeared to be about the middle – where the professor sat. She felt more than heard his distinctive low voice as it cut through the other sounds. She was too far to discern any words, but he was apparently the center of much of the laughter.

She watched him mouth something and those around him laughed heartily. The lady on Snape's right was particularly interested as she laid her hand on his arm. He bent down so she could whisper into his ear and then smiled.

Hermione nudged Draco, "Who's that next to the Professor?"

Draco looked their way. "Rumilda Filch."

"Rumilda Filch? As in- "

"A relation of _our_ Argus Filch."

Hermione craned her neck, looking over the long table of diners. "I didn't know Mr. Filch was a guest tonight?"

"Oh, he isn't, just Miss Filch. Professor Snape invited her as his guest."

"She's quite beautiful." And she was. Miss Filch's skin glowed in a way the man seated on her left didn't. She wore a simple dress, but it clung well. Her black hair set-off the blue of her eyes and redness of her lips.

"Why would someone like Miss Filch be with Professor Snape?" Hermione's question filled one of those uncomfortable silences that unexpectedly arise in crowds. Everyone's attention turned towards the rude girl.

Snape stared at her, "Yes, Miss Granger, please divulge every thought in your pretty head."

The moment hung and Hermione's mouth hung open. She ran various responses through her mind, but none were polite.

Snape continued to watch her as he spoke towards Mr. Malfoy, "I told you, Lucius, it's bad form to mix company."

Hermione's temper won her voice, "Why, Professor, I'm surprised you would utter such a sexist remark!"

Snape looked appalled, "Miss Granger, I was referring to Slytherins and Gryffindors."

There was a pause and the table erupted in laughter.


	16. Chapter 16

16.

Hermione managed to get through the remainder of dinner without embarrassing herself further. Chairs were pushed back and the men led the ladies from the room. The women separated and headed towards a door on the far end of the parlor.

"Miss Granger?" Mrs. Malfoy intoned pleasantly. "Surely you wish to come with us?" Mrs. Malfoy gestured politely.

"Uh, assuredly not, Mrs. Malfoy. Tonight I've proven myself _not_ to be a lady - twice. I'd rather stay here." There was no way Hermione was going to let herself be segregated simply because she was female. She was no delicate flower. She was also nosy.

Mr. Malfoy interjected, "That's all right, Narcissa. It may prove well-timed." A knowing look passed between husband and wife. Mrs. Malfoy inclined her head, drew up her skirts and swept away. She ushered her charges into another room and the elves shut the door between them.

Mr. Malfoy led Hermione to the end of a settee. He waved Draco to sit next to her and deposited himself into a matching settee opposite. She saw Snape deposit himself into a chair at some distance.

"Now, Miss Granger... how are your dear parents?"

"Uh, fine, sir."

Lucius relaxed into his seat and crossed his limbs. "Will you be visiting them during the break?"

"Only on Christmas day, sir. I have many studies to catch up on and, er, some other things."

"Oh, that's right. You are finishing 7th year, yes?"

"Yes, sir, but I'm also re-reading my 6th year texts. I missed quite a bit with all the... distractions."

Lucius looked placid despite her reference. He eyed his son and inclined his head towards a tea set.

Draco got the point and sprung to his feet. "Hermione, would you care for some tea?"

Hermione smiled warmly to him, "Of course." Away he went.

Mr. Malfoy made a couple more remarks and paused. He turned abruptly in his chair and yelled, "Severus! Come join us so Miss Granger doesn't have to keep craning to see you."

Hermione kneaded her hands in her lap self-consciously. The professor unwound himself from his chair and strode over to them. He seated himself in a chair on her right and propped his head on one hand. He crossed his knees and readjusted his position so his soles wouldn't brush Lucius' seat.

"There, now, all better. Where were we, Miss Granger? Ah, yes. You mentioned your NEWTs?"

"Yes, sir. I'd like to sit all the subjects, but realistically I should focus on only a select few."

Lucius was genuinely interested. "And what might those be?"

"Arithmancy, transfiguration and... " she licked her lips, "potions."

"Humpf," was Snape's reply. He had an arm outstretched and he was wriggling his fingers in an odd way.

"Don't mind him, Miss Granger. He acts curmudgeonly merely to garner attention. You know, our Draco is going to pursue potions."

"Is he? I didn't know. Is he taking an apprenticeship?"

Draco returned with a house elf bearing a tray of various things. "Hermione?" Draco selected and gave her a hot cup of tea followed by a small plate of sweets.

He then offered to Snape who refused and then to his father. Lastly, Draco took his own tea and plate and settled in next to her.

"I was just telling Miss Granger of your career choice, Draco."

"Oh, yes, Hermione. Father is setting me up with a small shop in Diagon Alley."

"Small?!" Lucius snapped.

Draco hurriedly corrected himself, "Uh, no, not small, Hermione. Uh, ample for someone starting out with a business and new to commerce."

"I thought you might be taking an apprenticeship?" At Draco's shake of his head, Hermione turned towards Snape, "Professor, haven't you offered him one?"

Snape was very relaxed, all slumpy in the chair. He was still moving his fingers in an inexplicable way. "Haven't I offered him what, Miss Granger?"

"An apprenticeship, of course! You always said he was one of your best students... " she trailed off realizing how that sounded.

"Are you implying '_best_' as in, comparison to students in general or yourself in particular?"

"Why... either."

Snape drawled, "I haven't offered Master Malfoy an apprenticeship because he neither needs nor requires one."

Draco smugged at the great compliment. Hermione narrowed her eyes as she watched Snape's hand. She saw him twirling a wand and then he wasn't. And then she saw a wand again and then she didn't.

"How are you doing that?!" she blurted.

"Doing what, Miss Granger?"

"That... that there, what you're doing, Professor." She gestured wildly at his hand. "That's like... magic!"

He stopped to look at her with disdain. "Obviously." He pierced her with his eyes a moment longer and then resumed his idyll.

"Draco," Mr. Malfoy said, "tell Miss Granger about your shop."

"It has a storefront, a stockroom, two labs, a sitting room, and private quarters."

"Quarters? You're not going to live there?"

"Uh, no. I will have an assistant.. or two. I'm going to live in the country. My parents are purchasing me an estate. I'll be signing a contract with St. Mungo's next week. I'm to be their chief supplier of blood replenishing draughts."

Hermione wasn't certain what to think. It seemed so... adult. And final. "So, you're making potions your career?"

He nodded, "And you?"

"I-I haven't thought about it much. Perhaps something to do with the laws."

Lucius inquired, "What particularly about the wizarding legislature, Miss Granger?"

She looked agitated. "Uh, gaining freedom for elves... "

Snape prodded her with a smile, "Go on, Miss Granger, tell Mr. Malfoy."

"Erasing laws which benefit only purebloods," she winced.

There was a quiet moment and then Lucius laughed. "Well, good luck to you in that endeavor."

Hermione flushed. "Those are laws which should be repealed! It isn't right to consign those with mixed blood or no wizarding blood to being secondary citizens, Mr. Malfoy." She was getting heated. Mr. Malfoy laughed harder. She'd expected a spectacle, an argument, a fight. Certainly not Mr. Malfoy laughing at her.

Snape was watching her. "You mistake his amusement, Miss Granger."

"And how do I?"

"Lucius... Mr. Malfoy doesn't give a fig regarding the propriety of those laws. He only cares for three things... fame, fortune and winning."

"I'll say, Severus! Give me a horse to bet on, but I'll hedge until the moment it's nose is at the line."

Hermione was aware of an increase in testosterone as Snape's voice came coolly. "That is decidedly one way to maneuver through life." She had a disquieting realization that she was cornered by three male Death Eaters.

"Not like your machinations. We've come full-circle have we not? And neither the worse of it."

"Indeed."

"You may even say we are better for it... "

"If you discount the wounded, the dead and the emotional costs."

"Nothing time will not ease."

"Not everyone seeks, nor should, be granted comfort from the losses."

"You imply I have yet to recompense?"

"Not at all, Lucius, but it is hard-hearted to discount the deceased so callously."

"Efforts to save even another wizard might have tipped the scale towards the Dark Lord. Why risk two lives for one?"

"Because every life is worth dying for."

"Too late to be affronted by warfare! Or, murder! I remember well, Severus. You certainly took your share in your day. And with a degree of pleasure."

"Never a student, never a child. The adults, yes, for which I shall regret the rest of my days."

"Pity yourself then. Those who died sacrificed themselves in honor, regardless of their affiliations. Death is for the dying and lives are to be lived!"

"Remember that, Lucius, when you are holding your grandchild."

Lucius was shocked. He calmed himself until he could speak again. "Yes. Yes. I fervently hope you are correct in that regard, Severus." He cocked his brow with great meaning at Snape and pointedly stated, "And to you."

Now Snape looked flummoxed.

Hermione thought it appropriate to interject. "Professor, you want to have children?"

"One or two would not be a bother."

"Miss Filch is in accord with your wishes?"

"I have not asked her, Miss Granger."

"Nevertheless, she might want to wait a year or so."

"Why is that, Miss Granger?"

"Well, because she will have so little time to be herself. In between schooling and being forced to marry. Then expected to have children right away. What choices does she have?"

"I would not ask her for anything, Miss Granger. She can choose to do what she will. My only concern is pre-empting the Marriage Law and providing for her safety, _if_ or _when_ needed."

"Why that's hardly a marriage!"

"Remember that _if_ or _when_ Mr. Weasley ever makes his proposal to you."

Lucius' eyebrows shot up as did Draco's.

Hermione considered telling him that Ron had proposed and she had refused – twice. What would he think then? She continued unabated, "I don't remember seeing Miss Filch at school."

Snape turned to her, "Not everyone affected by the Marriage Law is a student of Hogwarts."

"Oh! I hadn't thought of that."

"No, of course you didn't think. You so rarely do."

Hermione bridled with anger. "She seems awfully young... " she waited for Snape to open his mouth before finishing, "_for you_."

Noticing Snape was speechless, Draco spoke up, "She's nineteen. She's had private tutors all her life. Her family is quite wealthy. She wants to pursue potions, also."

Hermione and Snape continued glaring at each other. She refused to break eye contact until he did first. She wanted to make him angry. She wanted to infuriate him. "Perhaps you could make her an ageing potion?"

He didn't answer though his jaw moved as if he were grinding his teeth.

"Please, do tell which of your _so many _charms won her over?"

He spoke icily, "I used no charms, Miss Granger."

"Ah, then you used a potion... Amortentia?"

He didn't answer again.

Lucius cut in, "I am certain Severus placed no spell on Miss Filch. She is merely a girl with a lovely disposition in need of a husband."

"And Draco said she's rich," Hermione reminded them.

"Miss Granger, I have never, nor do I now seek fortune. My name was added to the eligible wizards list for many women. I believe my name is on yours, anyhow, Mr. Argus Filch contacted me on behalf of his niece. According to the arrangements, I was obliged to respond to any and all requests."

"If you're on the list for so many women, why her?" Hermione couldn't believe Snape would want the girl simply because she was... voluptuous. "Did her well-developed _charms_ win your heart?"

"Miss Granger... Miss Filch is cut glass."

"Meaning?"

"A beautiful thing to look at, but entirely useless."

Hermione couldn't believe him. She was affronted on behalf of the absent girl. "That's a horrid thing to say, Professor!"

"Miss Granger! Miss Filch is a squib."

Draco winced at the word. Hermione was stunned by this new fact.

Snape continued, "She's more vulnerable than the other ladies in peril by the Marriage Law. She will need extra protection – I beg your pardon, Lucius - from pureblood fanatics. Her allurements, as you so aptly and precisely pointed out, will do her more harm than good."

"And how is that?"

Snape quirked his eyebrow at her, "It will raise jealousy in less-advantaged women."

Hermione turned crimson from the insult. She dropped her eyes as she plucked at the velvet of her dress. She bit the inside of her cheeks willing herself not to cry.

Harry joined them soon after and it was only moments before she convinced him it was time for them to leave. She didn't bother saying goodbye to Snape as he wasn't listening anyway.


	17. Chapter 17

17.

After apparating, Harry walked her all the way back to the portrait hole. He was reluctant to return to The Burrow, but Hermione couldn't wait for him to go away. She wanted a hot, very hot bath... and a good cry.

She picked up Crookshanks and gave him a fierce hug before setting him back down. As she undressed she spied an envelope on her nightstand. Lockhart apologized for his sudden disappearance – an aunt at the veil. He would return the next day and would she be free for lunch?

Hermione stepped gingerly into the steam. She was already warmed by Lockhart's words.

***

Breakfast at The Burrow was quiet. Charlie, Bill and Mr. Weasley had eaten in a rush to leave for Hogsmeade. Percival was poking at his oatmeal as was Ron. Ginny looked as though she had cried – which she had. Harry kept trying to capture her eyes, but she wouldn't raise her chin.

"Now, Ronnie, hurry along. Musn't be late for work," Molly bustled joyously.

Ron glowered, but ate a bit faster. "What's the point, anyhow?"

"The point is, it's the holidays and lots of sales to be made. George depends on you and you know it. You're doing right by him and right by those who love you." Molly gave him a kiss on his head.

He muttered, "Not right by all."

Harry wanted to reply, but couldn't.

Percy asked Harry, "Are you sure Shacklebolt didn't ask about me?"

"I've told you three times already, Percy. Your name never came up at the party. If it had, wouldn't I of told ya?"

Percy did not look happy. He would have to make a better impression with the Minister of Magic.

"Mail's here!" Molly opened a narrow kitchen window letting snow spill onto the floor. She took the letters from various owls, gave them each a piece of fillet and shuttered the window.

"Percy!" she handed him a note.

"Ginny!" a crisp envelope to her.

Ron looked expectant, but his mother passed him by.

"Oh! And one for Harry." She shuffled the remaining envelopes. "These others must be Christmas cards, how nice."

Ginny noted her letter was from Hermione. Not bothering to open it, she stuffed it angrily into her skirt pocket.

Percival noticed Harry's distress first. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing as far as I can tell. Um, I have to go to Hogwarts." Harry cleared his bowl and grabbed a jacket.

"Harry! Is everything okay?"

"I really don't know, Ron. It's- it's from Hermione. She says it's urgent."

Ron wanted to hit something. "Well, she didn't write me!"

"What can I do, Ron?! It's not my fault. You want me to just stop being her friend?"

"Uh, no. I guess not." Ron paused then asked with concern, "tell me what happens, okay?"

Harry nodded. He was about to open the door when Ginny yelled. "Yes, everything for Hermione! That's right, Harry, go help her. Go help your girlfriend!"

Harry and Ron gaped.

"Like I don't know. She's played you, Ron, or didn't you guess? All these years... she's been waiting for _him_." She indicated Harry with her jaw. "And he's been playing me. We're a pair of fools, ain't we just?"

"Gin, it's not like that at all! Hermione is one of my best friends, but she's only a friend." He turned towards Ron, "You know I wouldn't ever... "

Ron thundered up the stairs and they heard a door slam.

"Gin!"

"How could you, Harry Potter?" Ginny burst into tears and ran up the stairs.

Harry stood perplexed and noticed Percival and Mrs. Weasley watching him. She had her envelopes pressed to her breast in shock. "Perhaps, Harry, dear... I'm sorry, but maybe it would be best if you didn't stay here... after all?"

Harry's glasses were foggy as he nodded his head. "I'll ju-just get me things and go."

***

Hermione was pacing in the Gryffindor common room when Harry arrived.

"He-llo, Hermi-, coor! Whose is that?!" He was stopped by an enormous bunch of roses. They sat in the middle of the floor and reached over Hermione's head.

"They're mine, Harry, and that's not all." She evaluated his face, "Somethin' happen? You look terrible."

He filled her in on his problems, but delicately omitted Ron's request.

"That's ridiculous. I could understand Ron being a prat, but Ginny? No, she must be worried about something else. _Is_ there anything else?"

"Mr. Weasley told me she's been upset about not returning to school."

"I'd be upset, too."

"Not like that, Hermione. It's the difference in our ages. Mr. Weasley thinks Ginny is concerned the additional year will create even more of a rift between us."

"Has it?"

Harry was stunned, "I-I don't know. I haven't thought about it."

"Harry, you're off at the Ministry training to be an Auror. The Weasleys didn't let her return to school. She's a year, well, a year-and-a-half younger than you anyway. Plus a year of school.. she could be thinking anything, I would."

"But, that's only like two-and-a-half years! It's not that big a deal."

"Not to you, but obviously to her." Hermione thought of Lockhart and shook her head, "An age difference certainly doesn't matter to me... or to some others, but it does to her."

"Well, what could I do?" He snorted, "give her a time-turner?"

"No." She thought a bit. "Maybe you can convince her parents she should return to school, now."

"She'd already be missing half the year!"

"Half gone, but half to go. Half is better than nothing. It'll show her that you do love her and will wait for her."

"So, you really think I should try that, talk to the Weasley's about Ginny returning to school?"

"Definitely. And I could help her study."

"You don't have time what with your own schooling."

"No, I don't have much, but... "

"But, what?"

"Oh, just an idea." Hermione set the odd little thought into a corner of her mind for a later perusal. "You talk to them Harry. Get Ginny back in school and we'll find a way for her to get by."

Harry smiled with relief, "What'd I ever do without you?"

They looked at each other with true affection and then the moment passed.

"Now," he waved his hands at the bush-sized bouquet. "What is all this?"

"Harry, these came before breakfast," she turned and picked up a large, creamy envelope from a table, "along with this." She handed it to him.

Harry slid open the flap and removed the heavy letter. It was of a fine vellum with calligraphy so swirly it was difficult to read.

He looked up at her through his round glasses. "Hermione. This is a marriage proposal."

"Yes, it is."

Harry continued reading, his face getting harder. "Hermione. This is from Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, Harry."

He looked up, "He's formally offering his son's hand for yours."

***

After lunch, Hermione asked Lockhart if they could stop at a bookstore.

"My lady, after that delightful meal, how could I refuse you anything?" He lightly kissed the back of her gloved fingers.

"What types of books do you read, Professor?"

"Uh, oh, large-ish I suppose."

Hermione laughed, "Professor!" When he didn't respond she asked, "What if I wanted to purchase you a book for Christmas? What genre do you prefer?"

He shrugged and covered nicely, "I am certain if you purchase me a book, it will be treasured, no matter what genre."

"But, really? I don't want to buy something you don't like."

"I don't have a favorite genre. I don't have much time for reading, you know, off on my travels. Adventure, peril, strange lands, strange women, er, um. Book-signings! Now that I enjoy. How about a book with no words?"

Hermione wasn't certain what he was playing at.

"Then I could practice my signature." He mimed signing, "Whoosh!" He laughed, but Hermione didn't.

When they reached Obscurus Books, Lockhart looked hesitant.

"Uh, I just remembered I have some last minute purchases to acquire. How about you enjoy your time here and I will visit Gambol & Japes?" Hermione gave him a little smile and he was off with a flourish.

She stepped into the store and inhaled the dryness and distinct odor of old leather. The bookcases were close and tall, blocking out much of the streetlight. The carpets thick and smooshy. High-backed armchairs were set into niches affording the avid reader a moment to recoup.

She perused the shelves, not quite certain what she was looking for, but assured it would make itself known when she crossed its path.

She wandered further into the recesses and turned the corner. There was Snape. The idea in the back of her mind leapt forward, but she wasn't certain.

She crept softly forward in a way which surprised her. He was reaching up to reshelve a book and she slid under his arm to stand between him and the case.

"Professor?"

"Miss Granger?"

They were standing very close together. She'd thought for sure he would back up, but he didn't. He finished replacing the book, but didn't drop his arm.

"Or, is it Mister Snape? I do believe Miss McGonagall stated your salutation is now mister."

"It is of no consequence. Neither title is appropriate. Call me what you will."

"If only," she said with strong inflection. He attempted to reply, but she cut him off. "For now, perhaps it is best I stick to professor. Yes, I don't like mister at all. It sounds too much like my father and you still have your credentials... "

He waited for her to continue.

"Miss Granger? Was that your sole concern?"

"Uh, no. Actually, I need a favor."

His face was very rigid. "Well?"

"Would you be willing to take on an apprentice?"

"I told you last night... Draco does not require an apprenticeship."

"Oh, I wasn't referring to him."

He grimaced at her with disappointment, "If you're seeking the same compliment I gave Draco, I shall not provide it."

"Because you think I'm merely adequate?"

"Yes."

"Or, is it that you dislike me?"

"Why are you of that opinion?"

"Because of the things you've said to me," she wavered her hand vaguely, "in the classroom."

"Those '_things_' Miss Granger were intended to lower your inordinate hubris."

"Oh?"

"And all of them proved accurate and true."

Oh!" She shut her mouth and dropped her eyes. Her tongue ran across her front teeth.

"You can't deny you are better for having heard them. Better hearing them from the so-called enemy than from your friends." He watched her watching her feet. "I will admit your teeth now seem to be smaller than I recall."

Hermione blushed at the attention, but managed to look back up. "So... if I were to ask you for an apprenticeship... "

"It would not be forthcoming."

"What if it were for Ginevra Weasley?"

"Why would Miss Weasley require an apprenticeship?"

"Because she's nearly a year-and-a-half behind Harry in age and now half a year again with school. She's afraid of losing him." Hermione reached out and plucked a bit of lint from Snape's front. "Harry's going to talk to her parents to get her back in school, but she'll need help." She rubbed the edge of his placket between her thumb and fingers. It was thick and warm and soft like an old sweater.

"Miss Weasley never showed an affinity for potions. Offering her an apprenticeship would be futile."

Hermione hitched her breath, "Then, perhaps, you could tutor her in her other studies?"

"No, I don't think that would be appropriate."

"Why not?!"

"Partly because of the constraints between her intended and myself. And... I will be taking my old post again."

"You're returning to Hogwarts to teach?"

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"What happened to the school the alumni were to fund?"

"I turned down their offer. Generous as it was... I am obliged to remain here."

Hermione didn't like what she was hearing. "Be-because of the Marriage Law?"

"Yes. The eligibility requirements stated the suitors were to reside near the ladies' families. It would be improper to swear to the stipulation and then remove my betrothed to a foreign land."

"Would you have accepted otherwise?"

He looked wistful for a brief moment, then shrugged. "It is of no consequence."

Hermione felt like crying for him, "You put up with a lot!"

He gave a tight smile. There was a comfortable moment of silence in which they each appraised the other.

She controlled her voice to say, "And there was another offer, I believe. A post at the Department of Mysteries?"

Snape smiled in a horrifically evil way, "I was offered _The Locked Room_."

"That-that's where lo-love is kept."

"Hmm, yes. Irony knows no bounds in my life."

"You-you turned it down because- ?"

"Why there you are, Miss Granger! Ah, Professor Snape! So good to see you again!" Lockhart called much-too-loudly for the small space of the bookstore.

Snape realized his proximity to Miss Granger and backed away smoothly.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

The next day, Lockhart and Hermione lunched at Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade.

"Are you certain you have all your purchases?"

Hermione felt through all her pockets and gave a relieved smile, "Quite." She looked at the wizard across the smallish table from her. "Are you certain you wouldn't like your gift now?"

Lockhart held up his hand, "Tut, tut, Miss Granger. I'd rather we exchange gifts on Christmas Day. Positive your parents don't mind my coming with you?"

"Not at all! Mum's already fixed the spare for you. We'll be having ham, if that's all right by you?"

"Ham?" He looked quizzical, "Why, I think that's my favorite. Can't always be sure, you know. The Healers of St. Mungo's did their best, but sometimes... "

There was a tapping at the window by their side. Draco was waving at them as two ladies clung to his sides. One was Rumilda Filch and the other... it was that girl from Hogwarts. The one with the long, black hair. Well... both girls had black hair.

Draco led the ladies into the restaurant.

"Good evening, Miss Granger! Good evening, Professor! May I introduce Miss Rumilda Filch." She curtsied deeply. "And Cornelia Smoog." Her curtsy was barely perceptible. "Miss Filch, you remember Miss Granger from the other evening? Miss Filch, may I present Professor Lockhart."

Miss Filch was agog, "Not _the_ Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"The same, Miss Filch. Please, have a seat." Lockhart appropriated chairs from other tables.

The ladies bookended Lockhart as Draco took the seat next to Hermione. With two fresh faces, Lockhart began a discourse of his tales. Hermione evaluated the girls. Miss Filch's curls were up in a do to make her appear older. Miss Smoog's straight locks were unnaturally shiny and smooth in a way Hermione envied. Both girls couldn't stop looking at Lockhart with wonder.

"Hermione?" Draco spoke sotto voce.

She looked at him pointedly, "Two?"

"Oh, well, Headmaster Flitwick contacted me to attend Miss Smoog. She won't be leaving for home until early in the morning. She asked for a walkabout."

Hermione looked closely at Miss Smoog. She conceded the girl was just as pretty as Miss Filch.

Draco continued, "We ran into Professor Snape with Miss Filch and we were all walking along, but then he received an owl."

"Something urgent?"

He shrugged, "Must have been. He left quick enough."

Hermione toyed with her napkin.

"Hermione... I know my father sent you a letter... "

"He isn't serious?!"

Draco nodded and fingered a spoon.

"Are you?"

Draco looked very uncomfortable. He hedged in his seat. He whispered oh so softly, "I-I've _always_ liked you."

"Liked me?!"

"Yes, I liked you. I _like_ you, Hermione. I know it might be too soon, but did you, have you considered the proposal?" She didn't answer, her face hardening, so he continued, "You could look over the shop and see if you approve. I've told father to wait on the estate... you might want to choose a place elsewhere."

Her temper increased with her volume, "You tormented my friends! You tormented me! You called me a mudblood!!"

The patrons turned to watch. Draco was mortified.

"Miss Granger?" asked Lockhart. The girls were mirrors of astonishment.

Hermione shot to her feet and threw her napkin angrily onto the table. "Take me back to Hogwarts, Lockhart! Now!"

Lockhart was discomfited for oh, but a moment. "Why, assuredly, Miss Granger." He stood to his feet and bowed to each lady and then to Draco.

***

Hours later and Hermione was still angrily stomping about her Gryffindor bedroom. She had utilized her fury to wrap all of her Christmas presents. They sat on a heap on the floor looking much mangled.

A few she sent by owls. Some would wait for her to deliver on Christmas Day. The rest she shrunk and pocketed. Those she would deliver in person.

She made her rounds of the school, dropping her gifts to the offices of absent professors. Most of the gifts weren't costly and her parents had sent her a generous check for her holiday. Hermione didn't need the money herself, she had no use for fine things. Books and a comfy chair to read them in would do her well.

She stopped at the 4th floor library and stood to the counter.

Madam Pince looked at her crosslly, "Well, what is it?"

Hermione gave her warmest smile and slid the present across the counter. "Happy Christmas, Madam Pince."

Pince looked surprised because she was. She opened her mouth to reply, but Hermione was gone.

She had a couple more gifts to deliver. Handing out presents did much to lift her spirits. She was practically running up the stairs to the Headmaster's office when Snape's voice from above stopped her.

"Miss Granger, you are not a gazelle."

"Uh, no, sir. Were you just with the Headmaster?"

"Yes."

"Were you, did you accept your old post then?"

"No, not yet. Headmaster Flitwick and I were discussing another matter."

"Oh!" Hermione tried to hold her tongue, but couldn't. "Well?"

"Well what, Miss Granger?"

"What were you discussing with the Headmaster?"

"It never ceases to amaze me, Miss Granger, how someone with such an inordinately small nose manages to put it in so many places it doesn't belong!"

Hermione liked that. "It is only because Draco said you received an urgent owl and you left Miss Filch in his care."

"And that is a pressing concern of yours because?"

"Well, because... because I've received a proposal from Mr. Malfoy."

"Don't be absurd. Lucius is married to Narcissa."

"No, I mean the proposal is on behalf of his son Draco."

"And what of it?"

"I-I don't think it's right to leave off your intended with mine, do you?"

"If by right you mean _proper _then no, it wasn't. Rest assured, now that I understand your circumstances, the occasion will not repeat itself."

She was becoming exasperated. "Well?"

"Well what, Miss Granger? Is it my fault you never say what you intend?"

"What was the urgent matter you were discussing with Headmaster Flitwick?"

Snape looked her over and sighed. "Why you weren't placed in Hufflepuff is beyond my reckoning. You are as determined as their badger mascot." Hermione didn't answer so he continued. "Headmaster Flitwick owled me to retrieve Hagrid from his familial home."

"Why's that then?"

"He met with a slight accident." He held up his hand quickly, "No, no. Nothing so mortally dire, but more of supreme delicacy." Snape was grinning. "He needed assistance returning here and he is currently sequestered in the hospital wing."

"Would I be able to see him?"

"Perhaps tomorrow. Today he certainly needs to recoup and recover from the attack."

"Attack!"

"Now, Miss Granger. You will have to trust me in this." He said sternly, "Hagrid should not and would not want to be disturbed... at least for another day... perhaps two."

"Well, alright."

Snape resumed his descent on the stairs.

"Professor!" Hermione trotted down to him, feeling through her pockets. She brought out a tiny box and handed it to him.

"Miss Granger?" He took the item with grave suspicion.

"Happy Christmas, sir!" She bolted up the stairs to the Headmaster's office.


	19. Chapter 19

19.

That evening, Snape crept past the mass of birds lurking in front of his home as he maneuvered towards his entry. He'd cast a sleeping spell on them, but it was not guaranteed to work on all birds.

He spotted a brown bat hanging from a railing.

_Dear great-Uncle Otto_. He untied the letter then surveyed and dismissed the large pile of parchments on his stoop and entered his home.

He set his few items onto his armchair. Lit the fire and the candles with a thought. He breezed into the kitchen and back into the living room.

He snugged off his cloak, his frock coat and his shoes and settled in. Snape read the letter from his distant relative first, smirking over the humor of a man left for dead many times over.

_We've something in common there_, thought Snape as he picked up Miss Granger's gift. He used the engorgio charm and looked it all over. It was exceedingly crudely wrapped. Actually, it was more unwrapped – all bashedly and torn.

He wiggled his brows and pursed his lips at the novelty of a gift.

He read the card first:

Dear Professor/Mister Severus Snape,

For the man who seemingly wants nothing.

Miss Hermione J. Granger (student)

He opened the gift and was surprised. It was a heavy, lead-crystal figurine. He turned it this way and that way. A ribbon of milky whiteness twisted through the figure almost like- no, it was exactly like his patronus being cast. He was holding a cut-glass doe.

He set it down angrily and went to the kitchen. He returned with a mug of cocoa and pretended not to look at the gift. Snape got up and paced. He picked up the figurine and thought of smashing it to infinitesimally small pieces on the hearth.

It shimmered at him innocently. He looked it over again. It was well made. He could distinguish tiny hooves and tiny eyelids. It probably cost most of the girl's allowance. He went to casually place it onto a shelf, but then set it onto the mantle. It stood all alone above the fire. He went back into the kitchen.

He returned and adjusted the piece of glass so that it would catch more firelight before he resumed his seat.

***

Christmas morning found Molly Weasley in a flurry of cooking and primping in her kitchen.

"Everyone, eat up! There's plenty here. Ron! Give your sister some room. There, all settled?"

The doorbell rang.

"I got it!" jumped Charlie, quick as a flash.

"Now, who would that be? It's barely 7!" said Mr. Weasley. They all strained to hear the voices from the hall.

The kitchen door opened and a smiling Charlie preceded Snape into the room.

"Why, Severus!" Arthur shouted. An uproar of mixed voices clamored in surprise.

Snape was ensconced into a chair, a scurry of Weasley's bringing him an assortment of breakfast foods. At the fourth piece of toast laid onto his plate, he voiced, "Enough! Enough or I shan't fit through the door."

"Ah, dear Severus, this is a welcome," winked Molly as she dug into the remainder of her meal.

"You're looking well," piped Charlie with a grin, "for the newly undead."

"Nah, Charlie, behave." Molly gave her eldest a playful slap on his hand. "Do tell, Severus, how goes things?"

"Well enough."

Charlie nudged Bill, "Well enough he says. I'll say you're doing proper. We've seen that photo of you and that beauty in the paper."

George asked, "Who's this you're referring to?"

Arthur spoke up, "Rumilda Filch. She's a relation of that Argus Filch who works at your school - Hogwarts."

"So, Professor, when's the nuptials?"

"If you are implying a wedding between Miss Filch and myself, that is unlikely."

Molly placed her hand on his arm, "Ah, don't be putting yourself down, Severus. The lady is as likely to choose you as anyone. A mite better if you take my opinion. We know you deserve great happiness."

Snape gave her a serious look, "No, I am merely her escort until a proper wizard steps forward to claim her."

"Certain to be lots of those, she is gorgeous!" Charlie mimed an hourglass.

Bill asked, "You're a right one to be in the papers. Seems a day don't go by without there being some article about your past exploits."

Charlie, "Lots of conjecture though. Going to give Skeeter a proper interview one of these days, Professor?"

"Merlin forbid! I obtain too much amusement from her column to set it right with the truth. Much more fun in it this way, don't you think?"

Percival had to ask, "Are you, sir... that is, I've heard you might be taking a post at the Ministry?"

"I have received an offer."

"And?"

"And what, Mr. Weasley?"

"Well, have you taken the post?"

"Yes, Severus, do tell us if you will soon be acquiring a new title!" asked Mr. Weasley pleasantly.

"I have neither accepted nor refused the position."

Percival blurted, "But, but it's the Department of Mysteries! It's the Ministry of Magic! You can't just turn them down! You'd be a fool to- "

"Percival!" shouted several Weasleys at once and someone kicked him under the table.

"No!" Snape held up his hand to calm the room. "That is alright. The boy is entitled to his opinion. And... I have been accused of much worse." Snape sighed and stared straight at Percy, "Mr. Weasley, grant that if anyone should be aware of the repercussions of their actions, it is I."

The room was quiet in a solemn way.

George broke the silence, "So, you'll be leading your own school in France?"

"Uh, no, Mr. Weasley. I have officially refused that offer." Eyebrows went up.

Mr. Weasley said, "That's a bit harsh, Severus. The alumni were looking forward to building a school based on the Dark Arts."

"And so they shall, but not with me."

Bill thought a bit. "Has Hogwarts retained you?"

"Headmaster Flitwick offered to step down. I informed him that I would not take his place if he did so."

Molly asked kindly, "What is it you wish to do?"

"I would prefer to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Ron snorted, "Fat chance o'that."

"Ronald!" Molly was flustered as she looked back to Snape, "Seems my children have no manners at all these days."

"No harm." Severus gave a small smile of acknowledgement. "I have asked for the Defense position and for potions."

Ron grumbled, "Seems a shame to knacker two professors out of their jobs."

"Indeed it would, however, I asked to only instruct the 6th and 7th years."

"Good thing I'm out of it anyway."

"Yes, it is a good thing, Mr. Weasley, for I am certain if you were in my 7th year class, you would graduate with only A's."

Ron's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Before anyone could reply, Snape turned to Ginny.

"Which brings me to my reason for coming here today." He looked the girl over, but spoke towards her parents. "I was surprised to learn your daughter was not allowed to return to school this past semester."

Husband and wife looked at each other in surprise.

Mr. Weasley offered, "Well, we didn't think it right her being away from her mum after the loss of, the loss of Fred." They all tried not to look at George who was spearing his eggs much too hard. "And, um, we-we didn't have the income to spare."

"Yet, Fred was at the shop most of the time and that can be of no pressing matter at this point. How are the finances now?"

"Why? What is this about, Severus?"

"Having taught students for the past 15, oh 16 years I have garnered some knowledge in the attitudes of their social sphere."

They looked puzzled. Charlie asked, "What's that mean then?"

"When a student is removed from their normal studies for a length of time, it becomes difficult for them to be accepted when they return. I believe you have created a discord between your daughter and her peers. She will be lagging behind academically, mentally and socially."

While they mulled this over, he continued, "I believe you can amend part of the harm by having her attend this coming semester. Being an intelligent student, she could sit her OWLs with the rest of her classmates. She may even be able to sit her NEWTs and graduate sooner."

Ginny had her hands over her mouth.

"That's impossible!" cried George.

Arthur stuttered, "R-realy, Severus. I do understand your con-concern and that part is reasonable. B-but to graduate a year early? That is impossible."

"No it isn't. If she applies herself." Snape stared at her pointedly. "And, I shall assist her."

"How?!"

"I'll tutor her in any or all of her subjects if necessary."

Molly narrowed her eyes at her husband and he stood. "Uh, I think you lot all should leave the Professor to your mum and I. Go on, now. Leave us have a chat."

Ginny turned suddenly and cried out, "Mum! Dad! Please, I do so want to return to school."

Arthur and Molly tried not to look at their beautiful daughter's swollen face as she was pulled out of the room by Charlie and Bill.

When the children had left, Mr. Weasley stood behind his wife's chair. He placed his hands on her shoulders to comfort her. "Now, Severus. Explain this again."

Snape let out a deep sigh, "Your daughter should recommence her schooling in, what, two weeks. The alumni have purchased books and supplies for Miss Weasley at no cost to your family. Consider it a scholarship of sorts. She will be assisted by myself where or when needed with her studies. I am overly qualified to tutor in any of the subjects she needs to complete. She could definitely pass her OWLs and perhaps even her NEWTs."

Molly patted her husband's hands with worry.

"And how would you manage to teach Defense and Potions and also tutor our Ginevra?"

"I would not attempt to teach classes and tutor your daughter. No, that would benefit neither party. Instead, I wouldn't begin teaching until the Fall. This way, I would be available full-time this coming semester for tutoring."

"Yo-you would be willing to do this for our Ginny?"

"Yes. If you are concerned as to my educational merits, I can have my records pulled for you to review?"

"Uh, no. It is not your abilities... "

Snape stood, folded his arms and gave them a haughty look, "Even now, it is my Death Eater status which bothers you?"

Both Molly and Arthur fought to apologize, "No, no, not that at all. How silly of you to bring that back up. We think nothing of it."

"Severus, you know we are not a rich family. It's just, how could we repay you for this exceedingly generous offer?" Molly and Arthur held their breaths.

"I seek no recompense. If Miss Weasley maintains her studies and dedicates her time earnestly to passing her subjects, then that will be reward enough, I assure you."

Snape noticed their discomfort. "You have another concern?"

"No-nothing, Severus. It's just... Ginny _is_ underage, you understand?"

"Yes, all the more reason for her to graduate sooner. She musn't be left behind when her family, friends and her... intended are waiting for her."

They both looked agape.

Snape pulled out his watch and cocked his brow. "I really must be going. I have much to prepare. Contact me with a list of subjects she will pursue and those she hopes to sit for NEWTs. I will create a syllabus for each class and draft a schedule for her studies." He strode to the door and said over his shoulder, "I bid your family a Happy Christmas."

Molly and Arthur remained watching the closed door.

"To think, Arthur, Severus is in love... with our Ginny."

"There, there, old girl. You said yourself he's a better catch than most. Powerful wizard, trustworthy. Caught in a bit of a loop, ain't he?"

"How's that, love?"

"Why our Ginny looks much like Lily Potter."


	20. Chapter 20

20.

The Grangers welcomed their daughter Hermione with hugs and kisses. When they were assured their only child was, indeed, all there and as well as they had hoped, they turned eager eyes on the man she'd written about.

Mrs. Granger cheerily said, "Mr. Lockhart, isn't it? So, good you could accompany our daughter."

"Why, Mrs. Granger, how lovely you are! I'd have thought your were Hermione's sister!" Lockhart magicked a single pink rose and presented it to Mrs. Granger.

"Oh! How lovely! Do come in, come in. And please call me Mary."

Mr. Granger grasped Lockhart's hand and pumped it roughly, "Right-o, Lockhart, and I insist you call me Wallace."

"Well, alright, Wallace... and Mary! And you can call me Gilderoy."

"That's a boy, Gil. "Mr. Granger gave Lockhart a hard slap on the back. "Here, come set your things there and come see our tree."

Mr. Granger presented the middlin' tree with relish. "Ain't that a ruddy bloomin' thing thar ain't it?!"

"Oh, ye-yes! A ri-right... uh, ruddy bloomin' thing indeed!"

"Took me hours to wrangle the tree-keeper into lowerin' the price. What, _says I_, to the man, you telling me you're asking twenty pounds five on the day before Christmas. Now who, _says I_, is going to pay you that thar when I be standing here, willing to give you- "

Mrs. Granger waved to her daughter, "Hermione, love, come into the kitchen with me and give the men a chance to talk."

Hermione contentedly took in the view of her father leading Lockhart about the living room before following her mother.

Hermione poked around the kitchen, peered into the oven and looked into the fridge.

"Now, dearest, come sit and have a chat with mum." Mrs. Granger set down a tray of cookies and began frosting them. "This here Marriage Law thing... is that why you brought Gil?"

"I explained all this in my letters."

"Well, explain again."

"What do you want to know?"

"If you don't marry, then in what, eight or nine weeks you'll have to marry a pureblood wizard of the Ministry's choosing?"

Hermione nodded as she picked at a macaroon.

"And this Law only affects humans."

"No, not humans, muggle-borns. Ones like me who are magical, but come from non-magical families, or at least, non-magical parents."

"Because... "

"Because the wizarding population is in serious decline from the war and the few pureblood lineages are all crossed with each other."

"Hermione, dear, we raised you to be a very independent lady. You've made us so proud, darling. We won't interfere in your decision, but you know you'll always have a home here with us... if you wish."

"Thank mum, but it's not like I can just give up being a witch. 'Sides, I've got a couple offers and... other options to think about."

Mrs. Granger eyed her daughter carefully. "Your father and I _were _surprised you didn't bring that Ronald Weasley."

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"With a little over two months, I think you should be talking about it. Your father and I liked Ron very much."

"Everyone likes Ron, mum. Please, I'm sure you'll like Professor Lockhart."

"He's a wizard?"

"Yes, mum. I've told you this."

"Dresses a bit flash, don't you think?"

"It's his style, mum."

"He's not a bit of a poof, dear?"

"Hardly, mum."

"Is he a good wizard or one of those Death Eateries?"

"It's Death Eaters, Eat-ers, mum, and yes, Professor Lockhart is a good wizard."

"What does he do for a living?"

"He's written books, well, he's had some books _published_ anyhow. He teaches here and there."

"Does that mean he can get by or does he come from a wealthy family?"

"I guess he can make his own living. He buys plenty enough clothes... "

"Where would you live if you marry?"

"Um, I don't actually know. We haven't talked about it."

"Does he want children?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, does he support your career choice? You decided on law, didn't you?"

"We haven't talked about that either... "

"I'm sure you have been too busy to have a proper chat, but dear, you should get all this ironed out _before_ you marry." Mrs. Granger brushed a lock of hair from her daughter's brow and cupped her chin, 'get this all talked-out now and there'll be little to quarrel about after, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"He seems friendly enough. So, he might be the one?"

"Might be."

"You don't sound too certain."

"I want him to be the one. That's nearly the same, ain't it?"

"No, darling. Wanting and being are two different things."

"How did you know... about dad?"

"Oh, well, it's just the feelings are different. When I met your father, my heart pounded like it would burst. When he'd leave, it was like he took a part of me away. And when he'd return, I'd feel whole again. And... I'd do anything for him... anything." Mrs. Granger eyed her daughter carefully. "Is that how you feel about Gil?"

_Was it?_ Hermione wasn't positive, but she nodded anyway.

"Has he proposed?"

Hermione shook her head.

"In that world of yours... is it very improper for the girl to propose to the man?"

"I can't do that, mum. I want... I'd rather he really want me and not just because of this stupid law." Hermione's eyes welled up. "Is that so wrong?"

Mrs. Granger bundled her daughter into her arms. "Oh, honey! Of course it isn't. You're hoping for love. Oh, but darling... it might be too late for that."

***

Hermione took Lockhart on a walk around the village after lunch. She had persuaded him to dress a little more drab so he wouldn't stand out. His plain brown clothes made him very common in a way he disliked. He was also unhappy about going incognito while Hermione was recognized by her parents' friends and the shop owners.

Hermione broached her mother's concerns, but she couldn't keep Lockhart's attention. He was distracted by everything muggle and particularly fascinated with the shoe stores. He restrained himself to only purchasing four pairs of ice cream-colored suede platforms.

After their stroll, Hermione took a bubble bath and descended fresh and pink to find Harry in the living room.

"Harry, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, well, I spent the afternoon visiting grandmother Tonks and Teddy, but then the Malfoys came over, so I left."

"Would that be your Mr. Draco Malfoy of the other day, Miss Granger?" enquired Lockhart with a knowing look.

"Yes, it would. And his father Lucius and Draco's mother Narcissa. They're kinda related to Teddy Lupin. But, Harry, you said you were spending the holidays at The Burrow?"

"See, uh, I had a row with Ginny. A bad one. And with Ron. Mrs. Weasley didn't think I should stay there... that it would be too difficult."

"Mrs. Weasley sent _you_ away?! Sent you away to be _alone_ on Christmas?! Harry! Is everything okay?"

"I-I dunno know. It's a misunderstanding is all. I was wondering if you don't mind... could I stay... just for an hour or so?"

Mr. Granger grabbed Harry's shoulder with affection, "My boy! It's Christmas and if you think _we're_ gonna let you go off alone, none of it! You'll have dinner with us and we'll fix you a bed for the night. Wait til you've had a Granger breakfast! Ah!!"

"Really, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger. I don't need to stay the night. I have my own home."

"Grimmauld Place, isn't it, Harry? I've heard it's an enormous house where the Order of the Phoenix used to meet?"

Harry nodded to Lockhart, "Yeah, it was, but being as I'm the sole heir, it came to me."

"Dust about in a big old house by yourself? Not another word. You're stayin' to dinner and you're staying the night." Mr. Granger held up his hand, "No, not one more word of protest, Harry Potter."

Mrs. Granger said excitedly, "I'll go fix my old sewing room. It's not too big, but it should do you well enough." Mrs. Granger noted Harry's lack of luggage, "Oh, and a pair of Mr. Granger's pajamas, I trust."

***

Dinner was a rich affair of thick and starchy foods. They each left the table sated and slightly wobbly from eating past their fill. They set themselves about the living room and the tradition of exchanging gifts began.

"Thank you, dear, more socks!"

"Course, dad, what else would you expect from me?"

"Why, Miss Granger, this is beautiful!" And it was. A large leather-covered journal with Lockhart's name embossed on the front.

"This goes with it, Professor."

"I have never seen such a gorgeous quill before! Peacock, yes? I'll certainly enjoy responding to my fanmail now!"

Hermione grinned to herself. So far she had received several books, a couple woolly jumpers and a new bottle of ink which smelled of cut grass. The aroma reminded her of Ron and she'd didn't like that at all.

The Grangers had managed to scurry up a couple gifts each for Harry so he wouldn't be left out. A new book Mr. Granger had purchased for himself the week before and Mrs. Granger's gift to her husband – a tabletop telescope.

Harry was moved by the thoughtful gifts and desperately wanted to conjure something in return. To Lockhart, the Grangers gave a set of classical muggle adventure stories.

The bell rang. "I've got it!" Mr. Granger leapt from the wrappings about his feet.

Hermione opened Harry's gift. "Oh, Harry! This is lovely." And it was. A tiny emerald stone on a slender chain. "Would you?"

Harry nodded and stood behind her to fasten the chain.

"I knew it!" bellowed Ron from the doorway. "Gin was right. She'd told me and I didn't want to believe her! But now I'm seeing for meself!"

"Ronald!"

"Don't be a prat, Ron!"

Mrs. Granger piped up, "So good to see you, Ronald! A spot of cocoa? Yes? Well, I'll get you a mug anyway."

"And you!" Ron turned on Lockhart, "You're just sitting there letting them play footsie 'neath your nose?!"

"Uh, really, Mr. Weasley, I-I have no idea what you're talking about?"

"No idea, eh? And what's that look like to you?" Ron indicated where Harry was still untangling his hands from Hermione's hair. "That look like kids stuff?"

Hermione realized what Ron was on about. "Ronald! You are the most hideous boy I have ever met! To think that... why would you... how could you?!"

"No, huh? Here I was thinking Harry was mooning around Grimmauld all to himself. I went there to apologize. What do I find? You ain't there. Why I was practically feeling sorry for you... me own mate! And with me other mate!"

"Ron! You're being a real arse you are!"

Mr. Granger's eyes pitched back and forth following the speakers. He alone heard the doorbell rang and went to answer.

"Yeah, I was goin' to apologize for thinking wrong of you two. How wrong I was! No wonder you called me stupid!"

"Leave that to me why don't ya?" said Draco from the doorway.

Hermione was shocked, "Draco?"

"Why are you here?"

Lockhart spoke nervously, "Mr. Draco Malfoy? Again?"

Draco smirked, "Come on, don't stop the fun now that I'm here. I have waited a long time to hear you three going at each others' throats."

"Draco, it's not... it's not a good time."

Mrs. Granger brought Ron a cocoa. "Oh! Another one? Be back in a moment."

"Well, Hermione, going to ask me to sit down?"

Mr. Granger spoke up, "Hermione, it isn't polite to keep your guests standing."

She spoke through clenched teeth, "Ron, Draco, won't you please sit down?"

Everyone sat. Mrs. Granger brought in a mug of cocoa for Draco and she perched on the end of the sofa. "Well, isn't this nice?" It was very quiet until Mrs. Granger spoke again with alarm, "Hermione, dear, you're not expecting anyone else?"

"No, he wouldn't- " She flushed very hot and sipped her cocoa to hide her face.

Everyone evaluated Hermione coolly.

The clock on the mantle donged and all the men took out their watches and compared the time. They each pocketed their timepieces and the silence droned on.

Mrs. Granger jumped to her feet, "Cake! Er, um, I mean.. there is a fresh lemon cake in the kitchen. I'll cut some pieces." She sidled by Mr. Granger and tugged at his shoulder, "Mr. Granger, I'm sure I'll need your assistance."

"Oh, oh, yes." He stood and eyes twinkling, bowed with humor to the room, "excuse me, all." As he left, he shut the pocket door to afford them some privacy.


	21. Chapter 21

21.

Harry nudged Hermione and mouthed _WHO?_, but she shook her head and continued playing with the pleating of her skirt.

After a quiet moment, Draco stood and walked over to Lockhart. "Professor, I have noticed no engagement ring on Miss Granger's hand. Have you not proposed, sir?"

Lockhart was bemused, "Me? No, no I have made no marriage proposal."

Draco cleared his throat. "Well, sir, would you be offended if I tender my proposal to Miss Granger?"

Lockhart grinned while waving his hand in a flourish towards Hermione, "Oh! Have at her!"

Ron, Hermione and Harry's mouths popped open. Draco was startled by the bizarre response, but he gave a curt bow as he clicked his heels. He strode over to Hermione and gave another short bow. He went down on one knee in front of her while pulling a medium-ish red box from his pocket.

Ron balled his fists on his knees and spoke gruffly, "She's seen that trick before, mate."

"Ahem, Miss Granger... Hermione, please allow me to offer you my hand in marriage." She didn't speak so he continued, "I comprehend your reluctance, but may I express my feelings? I have long since admired you and would like to share my life with you."

Ron was repulsed. "Admired? Since when? You've never done nothin' but treat her like dirt."

Harry added softly, "I see it, I hear it, but I don't believe it."

Hermione managed to say, "Draco, you know you hate me."

"No, not hate. It was never hate. I've always been jealous. I was raised to think I was better than anyone. That I was better than everyone. You were better than I at studies and magic and even at acquiring true friends. How else was I to feel when a mud-, when a muggle-born bested me at everything I did?"

"Now you've done it,' said Ron. "She don't like stupid. He jerked his thumb at her, "she prefers in-te-llec-tu-als."

Hermione shook her head, "Draco, you don't love me."

"No, I don't. I do _like_ you though and I respect you. I'll make sure you have a comfortable life," he pried open the lid of the box.

"Good, Merlin! Would you look at that rock!" shouted Lockhart as he sprang to snatch the ring from its bed of velvet. He held it up to the candlelight. "It's magnificent!" He looked at Hermione with a grin, "Now, that's love."

Ron was shocked by the size of the diamond. He glanced sideways at Hermione as he waited for her response and sunk lower into the cushions.

Draco looked annoyed at Lockhart, "Do you mind, Professor? I'm not certain if Miss Granger and I have finished."

"Oh, right, right." He handed the ring reluctantly back to Draco with a wink. "Ooh, coo, that's a piece."

The pocket doors opened and Mrs. Granger took in the scene of Draco on his knee before her daughter. "Oh, my!" She and her husband bustled in with plates of cake. They set them about the room and then left quietly, shutting the doors discretely behind them.

Draco looked at her with concern, "_Are_ we finished, Hermione?"

"Draco, what would be the point? Why _me_?"

"I think we could be happy together. We would make a powerful and clever team."

Ron winced at that.

"I think I need someone who will stand up to me."

Ron poked Hermione in the arm, "'ere that? He just called you bossy."

Draco fixed his eyes on Ron, "And I think you want someone who you can _trust_ to be _faithful_."

Ron turned a frightful shade of purple.

Draco indicated Lockhart with his head, "It might not be the fantasy you're hoping for, but it will be a good life and a safe one. I'll do right by you."

Hermione chewed her lip and said, "Draco, I don't love you and I definitely am not _in love_ with you. I appreciate what you're doing. What it must mean to you... to come here and ask for me, but I want to be in love. You understand, don't you?"

Draco nodded and debated what to do with the ring. After a pause, he snapped the box shut and pocketed it. He picked up his cake plate, resumed his seat and joined the others in eating.

A couple moments passed and Harry said sadly, "I'd forgotten to tell Ginny a Happy Christmas."

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"I've got somethin' to tell ya."

"Go on."

"It's serious."

"So, spill it already."

"Snape came to our house this morning."

"Professor Snape?" said Hermione with surprise.

"He, he said it weren't right Ginny not being in school. He said if she'd return to school, the alumni are offering to give Ginny free textbooks and stuff." Ron poked at the crumbs on his plate sullenly. "Snape offered to tutor her for free. For the whole time until she graduates! Mum and dad said as she'd be getting nearly everything for free, she could go back after the break."

"Well, that's great, Ron! That's fantastic. Hermione and I were discussing how to get her back in school."

"Yeah, I guess."

Harry prodded, "What's wrong?"

"Harry... mum and dad kicked us kids outta the room. They wanted to talk with Snape alone. We listened in with an extendable ear."

"And?"

"And... when Snape left, they said somethin'"

"Ron, tell already!"

Draco sneered, "Seriously, Weasley, it's a wonder you're such a grace on the Quidditch field because you're certainly a fumbler off!"

Ron raised his voice, "Well, you 'n me, we'll just settle this right, sees who's a fumbler!" Ron threatened Draco with his fist and both boys leapt to their feet.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Hermione came between them. "Now, if you two could act like real gentlemen for five minutes I'm sure my parents would _appreciate_ you not fighting in their home!" She pushed Ron and Draco back into their seats. She sat with a huff and fiddled with her wand peeking from her sleeve. They didn't know how close they'd come to being hexed severely with a case of jelly-legs.

She spoke sternly, "Now, Ron, finish what you had to say."

Ron squirmed in his seat. "Harry, me mum and dad... well, they, they think Snape's offering all this help to Ginny because... because he's in love with her."

Hermione laughed, "That's preposterous!"

Ron was shaking his head. "No, they said it's cause Ginny looks like... "

Harry, "Well?"

"Like your mum or at least the way your mum looked in school."

They all watched Harry whose cheeks were very white with red splotches.

He squinched his face as he thought of Snape's memories of his mother – of Lily Potter nee Evans. He saw Snape speaking to her under a great tree then laughing with her as he walked her home both talking about their studies. Ginny did look a wee bit like mum.

Harry jumped to his feet. "Ron, do you have that ring you offered to Hermione when you proposed?"

"No, Harry, I left it at The Burrow.. why?"

Harry looked at Draco. "Can I have your ring?

Draco snorted, "You're joking?!"

"No, really, Draco. I need a ring and I need it now."

Draco continued with a sneer, "I wouldn't give you the mud off my feet, Potter."

"So much for doing right by Hermione then."

"What's that supposed to mean, Potter?"

"It means that friends do for each other without questioning why. You said you hadn't acquired true friends. If you want Hermione... Ron and I come with the deal."

Draco glared at him, but he pulled out the box and slapped it into Harry's palm.

"I hope Miss Weasley chokes on it the little- "

Harry ran to the door.

"Harry!" Hermione was on her feet.

Harry looked over his shoulder, his hand on the knob.

"Good luck!"

Harry nodded curtly and was out the door. Hermione fell back into her chair.

"Now, that's love!" grinned and winked Lockhart who was chasing crumbs around his plate.

Hermione was perplexed. Lockhart didn't show any concern that Draco had offered her a marriage proposal. Nor that two, two men were sitting here, both suitors for her hand. He didn't seem to care and he still had not proposed. She puzzled over it. Lockhart had traveled the world, seen many wonders, probably had more than a few dalliances of his own. Perhaps Lockhart didn't see Ron or Draco as competition?

Hermione hatched a plot so devious it was worthy of a Slytherin. She would need to move fast and she would need to be very careful. She could do it and she would do it.

***

The next morning, after an immense English Granger breakfast, Harry and Lockhart escorted Hermione back to Hogwarts. Harry said he wanted to visit Teddy Lupin again and he disapparated outside the gates of Hogwarts. Lockhart went off to Hogsmeade to visit some friends leaving a grateful Hermione to get on with her plans. She had a busy schedule and she would stick it out.

She contacted Rita Skeeter and gave her a vague, yet intriguing story to print. She then stopped to Flitwick's office. She circled the last name on her eligible bachelors list and handed it back to the little man. He asked her if she was certain and she'd nodded vigorously. Flitwick asked her to sign a form, which she did. She was almost out the door when Dumbledore called to her.

"Miss Granger, that was most unexpected."

"No more than anything else in my life, sir."

"You think _he'll_ make you happy?"

"No, sir, I don't think he will. But I really only need books, don't I?"

She ran down the Gargoyle steps to get far away from meddling portraits.


	22. Chapter 22

22.

Hermione finished unpacking, took a hot bath and went to the Hospital Wing.

"Madam Pomfrey, I'd heard Hagrid was here?"

"Yes, child. Hagrid's over there. Don't be getting him riled. And don't be staying too long."

"No, ma'am."

Hermione came up to the giant in the bed. The cot had been bewitched far longer and a wee wider, but Hagrid's feet still hung over the end.

"Why, 'Ermione! Good to see ye! Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas, Hagrid. Here." She pulled out a gift and spelled it larger. "I would have brought it sooner, but Professor Snape told me you needed a couple days to rest."

Hagrid took the gift in his big hands and fumbled it open. "That be right. I needed me time to recover." He peered at the present, turning it over. "Why, "Ermione, that be a new teapot, that be."

"Hope you like it. I noticed your other one was kind of chipped."

"That be true. It's these big hands o' mine. Everythin' delicate-like runs the risk of endin' up broke in me care."

"Not this teapot. It's magicked to prevent chips, cracks, breaks and from getting too hot it you ever forget to take it off the fire."

"Aw, that be a sweet gift indeed. And me nothin' for ya in return."

"That's okay. You've done enough by being my friend." Hermione looked the giant all over, up and down. The cotton sheet was pulled snug up under his chin and Hermione only noticed a slight bulge about his hip area. She frowned at the area, "Hagrid, you don't look hurt."

"Uh, no, not what's visible-like."

"Professor Snape said you were attacked."

Hagrid avoided her eyes, "Now, Miss 'Ermione, I don't want be talkin' about such things in the presence of a lady like yerself."

"You've forgotten my two best friends happen to be boys. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. I don't think there's anything you could say that would shock me, Hagrid."

He looked discomfited but gave in, "It be I got bit in a place a, um, gentleman oughtn'ta gotten bit at."

Hermione started laughing and covered her mouth. "Oh, Hagrid, I'm so sorry. Does it hurt much?"

"No, "Ermione, not so much now. Only when Madam Pomfrey be changin' the ice... then it smarts somethin' awful. Didn't know I had that kinda language in me. Madam Pomfrey did her best, but me type o' injury ain't a common one."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't be actu- "

The far door slammed open and Professor Snape bellowed, "Miss Granger! There you are!"

Hermione clutched Hagrid's hand and whispered, "Don't let go, please, no matter what don't let go."

Madam Pomfrey rushed from her office. "Professor Snape. How dare you raise your voice in my sickward."

He strode up to her haughtily. "I will raise my voice wherever and whenever the occasion calls for it as it does _now_." He turned towards Hermione. "Miss Granger, you will come with me. I shall have words with you."

"N-no, sir."

"What?"

"No, sir, I'd rather stay here with Hagrid, sir."

He spoke with his teeth clenched. "I didn't ask you, I'm telling you, Miss Granger. Now come." He grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him. Hagrid dropped her hand immediately.

"Hagrid!"

"Sorry, 'Ermione. I'd be no match for him in me fine feddle, but as it is now... even the thought of a wand makes me feel... ooh" Hagrid winced at the thought.

Snape removed, then showed Hermione her own wand, "I shall hold onto this for a while," then vanished it up his sleeve. "And, Miss Granger, if you so much as think of hexing me nonverbally, you best do a good job of it for I shall show no restraint in retaliating."

He pulled her across the floor of the Hospital Wing.

Madam Pomfrey intruded between Snape and the door. "Professor Snape, what do you intend to do with Miss Granger?"

"That is between the girl and myself. Rest assured, Madam Pomfrey, as much as I would like to eradicate Miss Granger from my life, alas, she will outlive you or I."

Madam Pomfrey deliberated whether the Professor's wrath would wane or increase with her interference. She chose, wisely, to step aside. Snape dragged Hermione out the door and down the stairs.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To the dungeons."

"Why there?!"

"Because the walls of Hogwarts are so easily offended and the words I have for you are rather _choice_."

"I won't go." Hermione dug in her heels and flung her arm out for a purchase. Snape was pulling on her wrist mercilessly. She slacked her arm and then wrenched back and fell onto her arse.

"Get up."

"I won't!"

"Then I'll drag you down."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Wouldn't I?" Snape grabbed her ankle and started hauling her down the steps.

"Ow! Ow!! Ow!!!" Hermione's backside hit each riser with a hard, metallic thud in her jaw. She bit her tongue. "Stop! You're trying to hurt me."

"Trying? Trying?! If I were trying to hurt you, Miss Granger, you would assuredly be well aware of it. Now are you going to stand or not?"

Hermione stood tremulously and Snape reclaimed her wrist. "You have made me exceedingly angry, Miss Granger." He didn't pull as hard this time, but still with enough force to scare her.

When they arrived at his old dungeon office, he unwarded the door and threw her across the room. Hermione caught on to the edge of his desk to stop herself from falling onto the floor.

She was crying and upset. She hadn't planned on the Professor being this angry at her. She hadn't thought he'd be angry at all. In her foolish way, she'd thought he'd be flattered.

"Sit down, Miss Granger."

She rubbed her backside. "I think I'll stand."

His voice came softly with menace. "You will sit down or I will put you into the chair."

Hermione sat tenderly.

He slapped a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ onto the desk. "Explain yourself." He began pacing behind the desk.

"What would you like me to explain?"

"Stop playing coy, Miss Granger. You gave an interview to Rita Skeeter, did you not?"

"Yes."

"And did you not divulge to that odious woman that you were expecting a marriage proposal from me?"

"I may have alluded to the notion."

"Alluded, Miss Granger?"

"Ms. Skeeter asked if I were concerned about the effect of the Marriage Law on my prospects. I informed her that I was aware of the constraints, but that I had an affirmed engagement."

"An affirmed engagement... with _me_! You told her that I've been making love to you!"

"But, you have."

"Miss Granger, I adhere to a rigorous code of conduct. Amongst which I take pride in my ability to nearly always speak the truth. I rarely tell a lie, Miss Granger, so when I state that I have never made love to you and that we are not engaged, it is not my virtue I find at fault, but yours."

She whispered, "But, you have."

"What are my actions that have so formed this opinion?"

"You had your name placed on my eligible bachelors list."

"Along with ten or fifteen other wizards. It was not a choice of mine."

"Oh, but it was. If you really thought it was inappropriate, you could have told Professor McGonagall or Headmaster Flitwick not to put your name on my list. They wouldn't have done it without your approval."

He raised his eyebrow in disbelief, "Is that your whole argument? My name on a scratch of paper?"

"You told me you were not in love with Miss Filch."

"If you question all of the marriages which will commence before the Marriage Law deadline, I am assured most will not involve a serious attachment by either or both parties. Is that all?"

"I'd asked you once if you disliked me."

"And what of it?"

"As I recall, you changed the subject."

"So, these are your allegations against me? Miss Granger, you must not be aware how much you have impugned what slight reputation I have garnered. I have been an escort to Miss Filch and now I read that I am having an affair! it dishonors Miss Filch, myself and you."

"You touched me intimately."

"When did I?!"

"At the Malfoys. You touched me here." Hermione brought the tips of her fingers to her lips.

"You were injured, you stupid girl!"

"You could have used your wand, but you chose not to."

"Miss Granger, you have known me for seven years. In all that time, have you so failed to see that I rarely have need for the crassness of a wand?"

"Regardless, you could have _chosen_ to use your wand."

"We'll let that one go." He waved his hand at her, "continue, if you can."

"You-you've publicly stated you find me attractive."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I did not, Miss Granger."

"Yes, you did, sir. It was at the Malfoys dinner. You said I was pretty. I forgot how many guests were there, but I'm certain some of them will remember your comment."

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. "None of those incidents amount to _love_, Miss Granger."

"Perhaps not to you, but it's different for a woman. To be called pretty by a man in a very public place is a great achievement."

Snape scrutinized the girl and scoffed, "Still, that is a trivial thing."

"Hardly trivial when it comes from Professor Snape! The one man who is known by everyone not to show his heart to anyone!"

Snape was aghast. Was that really how it seemed to her? He began to worry.

"We've also exchanged gifts."

"Ah, the figurine you sent me. It is a thoughtful and appreciated gift, Miss Granger, which I thank you for." He began pacing behind her. "However, I have given you nothing in return."

"But, you have." She paused to make sure he was listening. "You're going to tutor Miss Weasley."

Snape paused at a bookshelf and began digging his thumbnail into the wood.

Hermione watched him and spoke tentatively, "I did hear that you might be in love with Ginny Weasley."

He snorted, "Impossible! That girl holds no interest of mine. She has no qualities which I value."

She asked delicately, "Even though she resembles Lily Potter?" Hermione held her breath.

Snape laughed, "The only resemblance between Ginny Weasley and Lily Evans is _ginger hair_, Miss Granger!"

"Oh! So tutoring Ginny is a way to ensure you are continuously placed in the company of Harry Potter?"

"Decidedly not!"

"But tutoring Ginny brings Harry. He'll be with her at lunchtime and at parties, picnics, at dinner definitely. He's in that big house all by himself. Why, when he's not training to be an Auror, he'll be as common around Hogwarts as if he were still a student!"

Snape eyed her coldly.

"By the way, Harry went to The Burrow last night to propose to her."

"Miss Weasley is underage and her parents will not permit the marriage to go through. However, they may concede to an engagement."

"Sir, you said there was too much enmity between Miss Weasley's intended and yourself."

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"Then you're not tutoring Ginny on Harry's behalf?"

"Of course not!"

Hermione watched him scratching at the shelf with his nail. "If not for Harry and not for Ginny, then you must be doing it because _I _asked you." He didn't answer her. She decided to hammer her point a little harder. "My gift was a mere figurine. A piece of glass easily purchased."

Snape went over and sat in a chair facing away from her.

"Your gift, sir, is so much more. You're not only delaying your return to teaching by a semester, but you're putting yourself in the company of the boy you loathe most. And for months! Not to mention all those Weasleys... and Ron."

The minutes stretched out and Hermione pondered if he'd forgotten she was there.

He flicked his hand dismissively at her, yet his voice was surprisingly gentle, "Go away, Miss Granger. Leave me be."

Hermione stood to the door and watched him. "Sir, I think your gift is the nicest present I've ever received. And... I shouldn't have been so surprised, what with you being so unselfish." He shrunk into his chair.

Hermione went out the door before her smile could betray her. _Well done, Miss Granger!_


	23. Chapter 23

23.

Arthur and Molly Weasley had the third worst night of their lives as they decided the fate of their only daughter. Harry Potter had appeared at their door very late in the evening of Christmas day. He'd pulled out a box and asked to speak to them alone. Molly had instantly spelled Muffliato and the invisibility charm to prevent her children from hearing or seeing the boy.

Arthur had been extremely curt to Potter. He had informed the boy that he would not be allowed inside to disrupt their family holiday. Arthur firmly shut the door, heavily warded it and warded the floo. He then exchanged an agonizing look with his wife.

They had talked all night as to what they should or should not do.

"He's risked his life for her! Harry loves her, Arthur!"

"He risked his life for others, for everyone. He is a boy. It could be infatuation. He is young, so young. It's not as if he hasn't loved anyone else. There was that Cho girl. Don't forget our Ginny cried when he took that other girl to the Yule Ball. Our Ginny isn't the only girl he's been after. Yes, I'm sure Harry will forget her in time." He pulled on his lip in deep thought. "We-we've already seen the... _effects_ of love... and rejection on Severus."

Molly goggled at the idea. How Severus could pine so much to sacrifice nearly twenty years for Mrs Potter was beyond comprehension. She covered her mouth as her eyes welled, "No, Arthur, I woul-I couldn't bear to see his eyes. To see him hurt, for _us_ to hurt him so. What he's suffered ain't fit for no human. If we refuse him our Ginny... "

"Before with Lily... he had a mission, a goal to strive for... now... Severus is the type to... well... "

"What are you thinking?"

"I wonder if much of his bravery was... an aim at self-destruction."

"You think he'd do something foolish?" Arthur nodded his head slowly. "But, with Voldemort gone, there's little danger?"

"Perhaps not from outside forces... but he might... lash out."

"No, no. Severus would never hurt another person again intentionally."

"We have no idea what he is capable of. For him to act the agent all those years? And to keep such feelings inside?" Arthur shook his head vigorously, "We have no idea! And he could do himself an injury."

Molly took a sharp intake of breath. After a lengthy pause, "but, it's our Ginny!"

"I think... if Severus loves her with even a fraction of what he had for Lily... our Ginny could grow to love him in turn. He'd never harm her. He'd protect her well. Better than Harry I think."

After breakfast, Arthur and Molly sent their children through the floo to a relative's home on the pretense of holiday spirit. Again they warded the fireplace heavily and opened the front door to find an anxious Harry on the steps. He had stayed at their door all night.

They let him in to tell the lad how it was to be. They didn't pick the mail from the stoop and so hadn't read Skeeter's column regarding Snape and Hermione.

***

Draco entered his father's study completely unaware. Lucius stood to the window in a practiced stance of nonchalance.

"Draco."

The coldness of his father's voice alerted him. "Wh-where's m-m-mother?"

Lucius warded and spelled many and various charms before answering his only child. "I sent her away for awhile. I informed her I needed to speak with my son... privately."

Draco's scrotum retracted.

"Sit down."

Draco sunk gratefully onto the settee to stave the tremor beginning in his legs. He eyed the carpet as his mind reviewed the past week's events. _What have I done wrong?_

"You have disappointed me," came Lucius' voice quiet yet hard, "again."

Draco debated a moment before answering, "I did ask Miss Granger to marry me – again. "

Lucius strode slowly towards his son. "Perhaps, it is _my_ fault?" Lucius' raised his eyebrows in a questioning mode, but his eyes were fierce.

Draco's voice took on a whimpering tone, "I-I don't understand what I did wrong?"

"How you could be an issue of mine is incomprehensible. "

Draco didn't even wince at the slur. He'd heard it all his life from his father.

"I still wonder if Narcissa didn't lift her skirt to Severus after all."

Draco tried to spell himself into nothingness, but his father had already placed wards to counter any magic of his son. He was helpless.

"Her-Granger... she can't forgive the way I've treated her... she doesn't trust me, calling her a mudblood and all."

His father backhanded him with fierce brutality, splitting his lip. "How many times have I explained to keep your thoughts to yourself! Your revulsion at their kind is to be kept in check!"

Lucius adjusted his cuffs, "I made the proposal official and allotted you a single opportunity to convince her. There is to be no more leniency where Miss Granger is concerned. Do you understand?"

Draco's voice wavered, "You want me to use the Im-Imperius Curse on her?"

"I do not care what you use, but you will make Miss Granger take you. She is the most powerful witch in decades and her magic must be harnessed with our line. The Malfoys will no longer kowtow, but will _lead_." Lucius looked contemptuously at his cowering son. "You have proven to be weak and not as amenable as I'd hoped."

Draco pulled into himself a little more.

Lucius examined the back of his hand where his knuckles had contacted Draco's face. He enjoyed physically manhandling the boy except for the bruising and inflammation of his own delicate skin. "If you do not impregnate Granger with an heir to reinstate our family's power... " Lucius held his son's eyes and smiled, "I will take it upon myself."

Lucius applied a burning hex to the boy's skin until the child fainted from the anguish.

***

Snape sat a while longer in his old dungeon office after his encounter with Miss Granger.

She had cast aspersions of culpability regarding his conduct towards herself. He asked himself several questions as to his recent behavior. He told himself the truth. Then he wondered if he were lying to himself. Was he? He had no idea. Too many years of occlumency. Too many years of suppressing volatile and unwanted emotions.

He once make a horrific mistake on the crux between childhood and becoming an adult. The child Snape was selfish, ambitious, greedy, power-hungry and envious.

With Lily's death he became so selfless that he emptied all wants until he was nearly hollow. He existed, but he wasn't living. The only emotion he permitted, well, let's say he attempted to restrain, was his anger. Hatred which came in all sorts of colors and shapes and degrees. Hatred for Voldemort, Bella, Dumbledore, Sirius, Eileen, James, Mr. Snape, Remus, Neville, Harry and of course, himself.

There were many others, but he was getting annoyed merely thinking about it.

Perhaps Miss Granger was under a hex or the Imperius Curse?

No, Miss Granger obviously misread his intent. Yes, that had to be it. She was never accepted amongst her peers. She was bookish and arrogant. The three romances she'd had were founded on her proximity to Harry Potter. What could she know of of love?

What did he know of it? Nothing. What he had for Lily when she was alive wasn't love. It was obsession. A juvenile craving for the only warmth in his pathetic life.

Snape rubbed his temples in an effort to erase the events of the past week. He was used to people attempting to manipulate him, but he couldn't figure what Miss Granger was on about. With a deep sigh, he stood and prepared to leave. He glanced about the room thinking of the changes he would have to make at the start of the Autumn semester. He still had not accepted the teaching position, but he had all the time in the world now.

He wanted to teach and make potions, teach defense and scare the boggarts of the students. Anything to prevent him from thinking of the empty years to come. He checked his watch and decided to spend the remainder of the day working on lesson plans for Miss Weasley.

He was nearly to the apparation point outside of the gates of Hogwarts when an owl dropped him a letter. Snape eyed it apprehensively before breaking the seal. It was from Mr. Filch's solicitor. The gist of it was Snape was not to have any dealings with Mr. Filch's daughter. It was to be expected.

What Snape did not expect was seeing Kingsley Shacklebolt and only Kingsley Shacklebolt on the front stoop of his home. The handsome man explained he had cleared out the birds and old letters as they were irrelevant now. Snape did not like the sound of that even though Shacklebolt said it with a heartfelt smile.

Snape also didn't like hearing what Shacklebolt said next. Several governors had petitioned for the retraction of the Ministry offer made to Snape. The option to work at the Department of Mysteries was no more. The Minister wanted very much not to recant the post, being as Snape's war record expunged him of certain crimes. However, lascivious goings on with a student whilst courting a daughter of the elite could not be ignored. It breeched the standards of wizarding conduct and was ungentlemanly. And... Snape could not look to Dumbledore for his defense.

Shacklebolt clapped Snape on the arm saying he wished Snape had had the opportunity to refuse the offer officially and publicly before it was snatched away like this. Shacklebolt disapparated leaving a discomfited Snape.

He had planned on turning down the position, but he had wanted to cling to the offer a while longer. The notion of the Ministry offering him, a Death Eater and killer of Dumbledore, a post gave him a sense of immense value. And dammit, of pride.

The Ministry rarely offered posts and even rarer recanted. It would come out in the papers. It would be a scandal – another one.

Snape decided to change his plans for the day. Instead of making lesson plans for Miss Weasley, he was going to drink himself silly.

***

Deputy Headmistress McGonagall burst into the Hospital Wing.

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!"

"Why! Headmistress? You're supposedly on vacation."

"Flitwick called me back due to an emergency." Minerva's cheeks were pink with concern. "Have you seen Miss Granger or Mister Snape?"

Hagrid chewed on his lips. He hadn't seen McGonagall so anxious in months.

"Why, yes. Hours ago though. He was very angry and took her to task."

Minerva asked, "Whatever for?"

"I do not know. He was livid, but wasn't he always?"

"Did he say why he was upset?"

"No, no. But Gryffindors and Slytherins are always a bad mix."

Minerva was becoming angry annoyed with the nurse. "Why did you let him take her away?!"

Hagrid spoke up, "that'd be mainly my fault, Professor."

"And why is that, Hagrid?"

"Hermione... Miss Granger... grabbed me hand like when Professor Snape came barging in. She asked me not to let her go. But, I did."

"He is her professor,' said Pomfrey. "Stronger than I. Stronger than Hagrid in his current state. It's not the first time he's disciplined a student."

"He is _not_ her professor, Madam Pomfrey! He has yet to be officially rehired."

Pomfrey looked aghast at the news. "I only thought he was taking her to task for some infraction. One gets so used to Prof--Mis-Professor Snape metering punishments. Certainly he wouldn't discipline Miss Granger for no reason?"

"I take it neither of you have read the morning paper?"

"I've been a wee busy with Hagrid, Professor."

Hagrid shook his head.

"Skeeter's column implied an affair between Mister Snape and Miss Granger."

Pomfrey's hands cupped her cheeks. Hagrid was furious, "That'd be right impossible!"

"That," said Minerva coldly, "is what I must find out. If Mister Snape has her under some hex... " She turned abruptly to Pomfrey, "I shall deal with your... inactions later. For now, I must find them both."

She went off in a whirl leaving Hagrid and Pomfrey to their bleak thoughts.


	24. Chapter 24

24.

Draco watched Hermione as she sat in a deep recess of the restricted section of the library. He stayed to the shadows and deliberated. If he followed through on his father's orders... but if he didn't...

He was trapped. There was no one he could turn to, no one who cared.

He sincerely liked Hermione, but he never considered having sex with her let alone making her have his child. Will this be rape? Will he be a rapist? What was rape anyway? Only sex, wasn't it? It wasn't as if her world would end. His father would be pleased and he would be safe.

He drew out his wand and cast several spells very quickly.

"Muffliato... Silencio... Incarcerous... Imperturbatous... Confundo!"

He added an invisibility charm to himself and the now bound, mute and bewildered Hermione. Draco grabbed her heels and pulled her further into the shadows.

He wouldn't look at her, that's what he'd do. If he looked at her he'd feel guilty, so he wouldn't.

Draco pushed up her skirt then yanked down her knickers.

He grimaced, "Ewwww." It was not at all the way it looked in _Playwitch_, No, not at all.

He undid his buttons, lowered his trousers and his boxers thereby releasing what he referred to as his own personal anaconda. Only it wasn't exactly an anaconda. It was more of a pickled flobberworm, limp and shriveled. He would have to arouse himself as Granger's furry nether regions weren't helping.

Draco thought of Rosmerta, but that did not help. He went through several names: Lavender, Pansy, Ginny, Fleur, Padma, Parvati, Padma and Parvati together, Padma and Parvati together doing the horizontal levicorpus to each other... but none of the fantasies gave him any... inspiration.

As the Confundus began to wane, Hermione startled and struggled.

Draco licked his lips. He was flaccid. He was impotent. His father was right. Draco was weak. His father would do the deed and there was nothing Draco could do about it.

Draco put himself and Hermione back the right way. Draco Confunded her again and stepped back as he released her bindings. He reversed the invisibility charm and just as he was about to disappear, he turned and said, "Obliviate."

***

Lucius tapped at the front door of Snape's home in Spinner's End. As soon as Draco recovered from his deserved punishment and left his study, Lucius had lingered over the morning papers. Perusing Skeeter's column had him baffled. If Severus and that Granger girl were having an affair... she might already be carrying. Lucius had to know. He may need to take the needed steps to eliminate the prospect.

Snape's voice from behind the door came loud and slushy and irritated, "What is it?!!"

"Se-ver-us? Open up. It's only I."

The door cracked and Snape looked at him. "Lushes, what a surprise."

Lucius startled at the odd greeting, but Snape backed away offering Lucius to enter. Snape was in socks, his customary black trousers and a white shirt unbuttoned to the waistband and with the sleeves rolled up.

Snape retreated into a dim and dusky living room, plopped himself bonelessly into a high-backed chair and picked up his beverage.

Lucius' eyebrows quirked at the decanter and bottles on the table. "Well, well, well. We do seem to be enjoying ourselves?" Lucius indicated the drink in Snape's hand with a jut of his jaw.

"This? It is about time I enjoyed something."

"Of course, Severus. Would I begrudge a man his pleasures?"

"You?" Severus voice, though low, was full of inference, "Not you, certainly."

Lucius watched Snape finish and refill his glass. This could bode well, indeed. "May I?" he asked indicating the settee. Snape didn't answer and Lucius was lowering himself, just about to make contact with the cushion when Snape snapped, "I didn't offer you a seat and why are you here?!"

Lucius was put out. It was unlike Snape to be rude. Lucius stood erect and then leaned against a wall. "I thought I would check on my good friend."

"Bloody unlikely," Snape muttered into his glass. He then shouted, "Spit it out! I haven't all day!"

"Actually, I read about you and Miss Granger in the paper."

Snape didn't react, merely stared into the liquidy depths of his glass.

"I came to... " Why did he come? What could he say? "To congratulate you." Lucius smiled and waited for a reaction. Snape continued his contemplation. Lucius admitted to himself he had never, ever seen Snape intoxicated and he was becoming increasingly unsure as to the effect alcohol would have on the man.

"Miss Granger is a prize."

"What makes you think so?"

"Clever, intelligent, loyal, fierce, powerful... "

Snape snorted, "that sounds like _me_ you're talking about."

"They're saying she's the greatest witch of her age."

"If by great you mean, greatly obnoxious, then yes, I agree." Snape chuckled as he sipped his drink and nearly choked.

Lucius watched Severus carefully as he asked, "have you made plans for the wedding?"

Snape tipped his empty glass up and peered at Lucius through the heavy lead bottom, "we have not discussed it as of yet."

Lucius idled with the edge of a drape trying to be nonchalant, "then... have you proffered a ring?"

Snape lifted his pinky and his glass was refilled. "This is about your son's proposal." It wasn't a question.

"Well, it does embarrass one's family to learn a mere tuppence of a girl rejects one's only son."

Snape said casually, "Perhaps, Miss Granger's objections relate to Draco's parentage."

Lucius' face became stiff. Was that a hint of malice in Snape's voice?

"I ask because I am concerned. My son... desperately wishes to marry the girl. I've tried to plead with him. Narcissa has pleaded with him, but he insists he is in love."

"Draco in love? With Miss Granger?" Snape laughed heartily, "I do not think, Lussschious, that you comprehend your son at all."

"Whether I do or do not comprehend my son is immaterial! What my son desires, it is my duty as his father to acquire. I need only know if there is still a chance for my son to be happy." Lucius glanced sideways at Snape, "have you consummated the relationship?"

Snape opened his mouth to reply when the doorbell rang.

"Bollocks!" he shouted and lolled to the door. He yanked the door open while drawing his wand to hex the intruder.

Harry ducked at the sight of a disheveled Snape brandishing a wand at him.

"Potter! What do you want?" he sneered.

Harry stared at the scars on the man's neck and chest. "I-I, uh, I came to duel you."

The corners of Snape's mouth lifted in a smile, but quickly changed to a scowl. He grabbed Harry's shoulder and pulled him into the entry while shutting the door and vanishing his wand up his sleeve. "Say that again, I dare you!" he thundered.

Harry spoke more assuredly, "I've come to duel you."

"For sport or for pleasure? Though certainly it would be a pleasure of mine to do you in."

Harry took in all of Snape and sniffed. The man was wobbling a bit and smelled of whiskey, wine, rum and something orange. "You-you're drunk!"

"I'm what?" Snape spat.

"You-you're drunk, sir."

"Right you are, Potter, for a change. I'm surprised your small brain was capable of working it out since you didn't have one of your Gryffindor friends here to whisper the answer into your ear."

Lucius came up behind Potter quietly and asked deathly, "Need some help, Severus?"

Harry was startled. He'd thought Snape was alone.

"Stay out of this, Lucifer!!"

Lucius and Harry widened their eyes. Lucius slunk back into the living room.

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes, Potter, you came here to kill me!"

The doorbell rang.

"Bleedin' bloody Merlin's balls!!!" Snape pulled the door open volcanically causing Ron, who'd raised his fist to knock, to fall forward through the doorway and onto the floor.

Snape's voice cracked with anger, "Get up you, you, Weasley! How dare you sully my clean floor with your Weasley face!"

Harry helped Ron stand as he whispered into his ear, "He's potted. Watch out."

"Well, what could possibly bring a Weasley to my abode on such a magnanimous day?"

Ron mouthed the word _magnanimous_ with a frown then replied, "Oh, uh, I came to duel you."

"To duel me? What?" Snape snapped.

"To duel you, sir."

"Go have a seat in the living room!" Snape pointed the way. "And if Lucius is sitting down, tell him Severus didn't offer him a seat."

Ron looked befuddled, but left.

Snape turned his attention back to Harry. "What is this about then, Potter?"

"Well- "

The doorbell rang.

Harry thrust up his hands in front of Snape. "I'll get it!!" Harry opened the door and was surprised to see Professor McGonagall.

"Pro-professor McGonagall?"

She ignored Harry and looked at the man standing beyond in the hall. "May I come in?"

Snape glared at her ferociously and then he stomped away to the living room.

She looked to Harry who looked back to her and shrugged, "He's been drinking, I think."

"No wonder, my boy, no wonder." Harry stood aside and McGonagall glided down the hall and into the room followed closely by Harry. Lucius Malfoy was standing with an annoyed glare against a wall while Ron was seated comfortably. Snape was back in his armchair and was finishing off another glass.

Snape waved his hand towards the other side of the room, "have a seat, Professor... Potter."

Minerva tried to evaluate the situation. She looked at Ron and Harry. "Gentlemen, your concern is admirable, however, I am here now and I will handle the situation. You may leave."

Ron frowned at Harry and looked at the tall witch. "I'm not leaving til we have ourselves a duel."

"A duel, Mr. Weasley? I hardly think a duel would be appropriate at this time. Priorities first. We must locate the girl and make certain she is safe. Then if there is to be a censure, Headmaster Flitwick and I shall take care of it."

Harry looked worried, "when did she go missing? I thought she locked herself in her room?"

Minerva opened her mouth with a puzzled look, but the doorbell rang.

Lucius yelled, "I'll get it!" and ran for the front door. Everyone waited without speaking until Lucius returned with Lockhart.

Lockhart beamed at the sullen faces, "Good day, good day to you all! What a marvelous day it is, isn't it?"

Snape's irritation knew no bounds. "Have you come to duel me, too, Lockhart?" he spat.

Lockhart instantly feared for his life. "Uh, no, no, no. Certainly not, uh, Professor Snape. I actually came by to congratulate you. I expect to be invited to the wedding, you know." He walked up to Snape and shook his hand, "Best wizard wins and all."

All eyes turned to Snape. The doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" Lockhart sang out cheerily. He returned a moment later with Draco.

Snape set his glass down very carefully and extended his arms along the rests. He hung his head a little so his hair hid part of his face so he could watch Lucius.

Lucius was infuriated. Snape could tell because Lucius' face was as the stone gargoyle leading to the Headmaster's office.

Draco examined the many faces in the room. He had hoped, sincerely hoped Snape was alone. Draco spotted his father and turned as white as a bloodless hippogriff.

***

Hermione awoke as from a horrible nightmare. She was prone on her back in a shadowed corner of the school's library. She stared up at the ceiling as she assessed her condition. She didn't feel as though she was injured or that anything was out of place. It was very unlikely that she fell accidentally into her current position. Her legs were splayed wide open, her legs hitched as if... she ran her hands down her stomach and felt herself under her skirt. Her knickers were on and dry. She pulled them off and examined them. No blood. No semen.

If someone had tried... what if they were interrupted by a noise? Then why hadn't someone found her? Hermione felt a sharp coldness all over. She was certain someone, some man had attempted to... but nearly all the students were still on break. And those that were left weren't familiar with her. They wouldn't know her fondness for the restricted section.

Even if they did, their were very few people who could get pass the wards.

It had to be someone she knew. Someone who knew her proclivities. Someone strong and clever. Someone with a grudge.


	25. Chapter 25

25.

Snape transfigured a bookcase into a loveseat and patted the cushion nearest his chair. "Draco, come have a seat next to me where I can keep an eye on you."

Draco strode rigidly across the room and sat with great fixity. He avoided all eyes.

Snape noticed the boy's deep nervousness. "Lockhart, why don't you stop crowding Mr. Weasley and come sit next to Draco. I'm sure you will find the company much more pleasurable."

Lockhart gave a start, but ambled over to the small couch. He sat leisurely next to Draco on the narrow sofa, their thighs brushing. Draco began to fidget.

Snape asked amiably, "Draco, what brings you to my modest home _today_ of all days?"

Draco looked directly into Snape's eyes, "I-I need your _help_, sir."

Lucius stepped forward, "Help? Nothing you could ask of your dear father?" His eyes bored into his son's skull.

"It's about... about... "

Snape thought very quick. "You still want me to write a letter of recommendation to give your customers?"

Draco looked at the man with gratitude, "Uh, yes, sir. If you please. Being as I'm starting out, it would ease their minds, I'm sure."

Lucius scoffed, "Letter of recommendation? He doesn't need it! He has his father's money and connections. Draco! We are leaving."

The doorbell rang.

Ron grumbled petulantly, "Guess it's my turn." He went to the door and opened it.

Hermione Granger had her wand out, aimed at Ron's head, "Expelliarmus!" she shouted throwing Ron back and into a wall.

Everyone jumped to their feet. Snape silently Accio'd all of the wands as he abruptly turned and pushed Draco behind Lockhart. Snape gave a slight twist of his wrist and the wands disappeared. He then strode out into the hallway, glimpsed the unconscious Ron in a puddle and walked up to Miss Granger.

Hermione was in shock. "I-I thought it was... "

Snape grabbed the wrist of her wand hand and directed it harmlessly away. He then put his other arm around her and drew her tight against him. He kissed her.

Hermione was being kissed and she didn't know what for. It wasn't the kiss of a boy, all slobbery and unsure. It was the kiss of a man, a wizard. It was passionate, warm, controlling, yet tender. She wanted to run her hands through Lockhart's tresses. She brought her hand up, but Snape grabbed that wrist and directed it away, too. She felt her resistance let go and kissed him back deeply. A small groan escaped her as he ended the moment and stepped away.

"Forgive me?" Snape stage-whispered to her.

Hermione's mouth fell open. First she'd been shocked she had hexed Ron, now she was shocked that she'd been kissed by Professor Snape. He stepped in close to her and spoke very quietly into her ear, "play along for your safety or I shall eviscerate your Mr. Lockhart. Oh, and, Miss Granger, close your mouth as you are not a codfish."

He stepped back and drew her along with him into the living room. He magicked his chair a little wider, sat and pulled her down next to him. Well, she was not exactly next to him as practically in his lap. He drew her tight against his shoulder, lifted her palm to give it a kiss and placed her hand on his bare chest.

Hermione still overwhelmed by the turn of events, was mortified and speechless sitting as she was on the professor's lap. His arm was about her, snugging her against his body. None of her boyfriends had ever been as intimate with her as this was. And in front of other people! Her hand was fully pressed against his alabaster chest. She glimpsed scar tissue and puncture wounds and turned away as she became crimson from embarrassment. She began to look about. They were all staring at her, all except for Draco who looked at the rug.

Harry and McGonagall were assisting a limp Ron into a chair while frowning at her. Lucius was glaring at her from across the room. Lockhart seemed bemused, giving her a sly smile.

McGonagall pursed her lips disapprovingly at seeing Miss Granger on Mister Snape's lap. She had to get the girl away from him. "Miss Granger! We have been concerned about your safety. You have many people worried about you."

"Con-concerned about me? How-how did you know?" Hermione wondered why, if McGonagall knew she'd been attacked in the library, why hadn't she done something?

"How could we not with Mister Snape taking off with you as he did. Now child," Minerva stood and came forward holding out her hand, "I am certain you wish to come with me back to Hogwarts."

Snape spoke with disdain, "She's not under a spell, Professor McGonagall. Why don't you examine her for magic?" Hermione felt the vibration of Snape's deep voice through her hand. She felt her girlish parts heat.

Snape made Minerva's wand appear and handed it to her. "Of course, you will need your wand to test for... _malevolence_."

Minerva stood directly in front of Snape's chair, blocking Lucius from their view. She took her wand and passed it over the girl's body with several diagnostic spells. She raised her eyes and locked with Snape's, instantly seeing the day's events unfold. She saw his argument with Miss Granger. Snape receiving his letter from Mr. Filch's solicitor. Snape receiving the rejection from Shacklebolt and the odd conversation he had with Mr. Malfoy before her arrival. She saw everything through Snape's eyes. Snape watching Lucius carefully, probing why Mr. Malfoy was so inquisitive as to Snape's relationship with Miss Granger.

Minerva broke contact and looked at Hermione. "You're under no spell that I can detect, Miss Granger. She went back to her seat and sat with her wand still out, "I suppose we could have some champagne to toast your engagement?"

"Of course, Professor McGonagall." Snape snapped his fingers and bottles and glasses appeared on a table. He turned to Lockhart with a smirk, "would you be so good as to pour, I am reluctant to release my grip as yet."

Lockhart grinned at Hermione perched on Snape's lap. He rose and began uncorking bottles.

Lucius snapped, "Severus, I am sorry for having interrupted your evening. Perhaps we can continue another day? Draco! We are leaving."

"I believe Draco would wish to stay awhile and enjoy the company of his friends." Snape drawled casually, "I will ensure the boy's _safety._"

McGonagall tensed at the inflection. She looked back and forth between the two men.

Lucius walked up to Snape and looked down his nose at him. "I believe you have something that belongs to me, Severus." Lucius thrust out his palm, "my wand!"

Snape apparated it and handed it slowly to Lucius. Lucius grasped one end, but Snape did not release the tip. He said, "How inconsiderate of me to take what belongs to you, Lucius."

Lucius clenched his teeth, tugged lightly at his wand and Snape let go. Both wizards evaluated each other and then Lucius left in a flurry.

The front door slammed, jarring Ron back into consciousness. Snape snapped at Hermione, "Get off my lap!"

"Wha-what?" She mumbled, surprised at another turn of events.

Snape spoke through his tight lips, "I said, Miss Granger, get off of my lap!"

Hermione stood hesitantly.

Minerva patted the seat next to her, "My dear, Miss Granger, come sit with me."

Draco looked at Snape with pleading eyes, "Sir, I-I need to talk to you."

"Is this not something the Deputy Headmistress should hear?"

Draco was resigned. He was going to Azkaban for attempted rape. He nodded as tears began running down his cheeks. Snape and McGonagall stood and walked Draco into Snape's study. They shut, warded and muffled the door.

Harry was in the corner, filling-in Ron on what had happened. Lockhart carried two flutes over to Hermione. "Miss Granger," he proffered her a very full glass.

She took the alcohol and downed half of it in a gulp.

Lockhart was smirking at her, "steady, steady. We've a long night yet ahead."

Hermione lowered her glass and wiped a bead of wine from her lip. "I've already had a long day. Like you wouldn't believe."

Lockhart tapped her gently on the knee. "Don't worry, Miss Granger. There's nothing Minerva and Severus can't put right. Leave it to them to settle things out."

Ron and Harry joined them. Ron blurted, "You! You hexed me!"

"I-I thought you were Professor Snape."

"Sorry? Bleedin' hell, 'Mione! What kind of a relationship do you two have? He flirts with Miss Filch, is in love with Ginny and you go about tryin' to hex him?!"

Hermione shook her head, "what do you mean, _in love_ with Ginny?"

Harry spoke up, "that's right, Hermione. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley told me that I was not allowed to see Ginny anymore. They're going to sign a contract for her with Snape."

"Professor Snape, Harry, and that's impossible!"

Lockhart laughed, "why the old crup! I didn't know he was such a lothario." Lockhart nudged Hermione in the arm, "tell me, Miss Granger, how was that snog? I've always wondered... "

Hermione, Ron and Harry gave Lockhart odd looks.

"Well, well, uh, I... "

Hermione was saved her answer as Snape and McGonagall returned. McGonagall resumed her seat and was handed a flute by Lockhart. Snape fell back into his chair, nearly exhausted from his day.

Lockhart noted Draco did not return. "Is the boy alright, Severus?"

"No, but he will be with some rest." He picked up his glass, topped it and drank it full down. "Draco is going to stay here for awhile."

Harry, Ron and Hermione gaped.

Minerva picked up Hermione's hand in hers. "Miss Granger, speaking as the Deputy Headmistress, I would like you to stay at your parent's home, at least until the start of the semester."

"But, but, why?"

"No, that will not do, Minerva." Snape sat pensive with his glass, "Miss Granger's parents will offer little protection."

"Pro-protection from whom?"

"Mr. Malfoy dear." Minerva looked very sad at the young lady.

Harry burst out, "why would Mr. Malfoy want to hurt Hermione?"

"Mr. Malfoy has serious problems, Mr. Potter. We do not have hard evidence against him. Nothing which could be used at the Wizengamot. Mister Snape and I definitely agree staying at Hogwarts would not be advisable. It is too large and there are not enough people to protect you."

Snape spoke tersely, "the girl should stay here."

"Severus, you know that would be improper."

"As Miss Granger and I are already involved in an affair, how could it be?!" Snape glared at Hermione and she dropped her eyes. "Besides, Lucius would expect her to be here." He paused, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He gave a long sigh, "it's what Lucius would do... Death Eaters are not known for their proprieties."

Minerva worried and looked from Hermione to Snape. She didn't like the idea of this at all.

Snape continued with his eyes shut, "as I am unemployed, I will be able to guard Miss Granger continuously. When the semester starts, we can re-evaluate the situation. However, if Miss Granger continues to stay here, Miss Ginny can either come here for her lessons or Miss Granger could accompany me to The Burrow. I will escort Miss Granger between classes."

Harry said, "if 'Mione's in that much danger, Ron and I will do the escorting!"

Snape looked at him with disdain, "you two?! Don't make me laugh! You have done nothing, but endanger Miss Granger's life. If it wasn't for me- "

Minerva shouted, "enough! Enough!" She turned to Harry. "On this I must agree with Severus, Mr. Potter. You have your Auror training. Mr. Weasley has to work at the shop. Severus is the only one with the time to spare."

Snape smirked at Minerva's jab.

"However," she turned back to Snape, "I disagree that it is fitting for an unattached wizard and an unattached witch to live together. Miss Granger's parents would not approve, Severus."

Snape turned to Lockhart. "Lockhart! Why don't you stay here as a chaperon?"

Lockhart nearly dropped his glass. "Stay here? Chaperon you two?" He wavered his finger between Hermione and Snape.

Harry burst out, "stay here? What happens when he wants to snog Ginny?"

Snape looked stupefied, "have you gone mad?! You have clearly been confounded, Mr. Potter. Why would I ever want to snog Miss Weasley? I have no interest in the girl."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Ron spoke out, "because my parents expect you're signing a marriage contract for her."

"I comprehend your parents, being Weasleys, have a difficult time functioning in everyday life, but where would they ever have lit on the notion I am interested in marrying your sister?"

"Because you offered to help her... tutor her free. A whole semester. They said you're in love with her, because... "

Snape gazed at the boy with little patience, "because why, Mr. Weasley?"

"Because... because she looks so much like... you know." Ron dropped his eyes, but indicated Harry with his head.

Snape looked over at Harry. He was instantly furious with understanding and leapt to his feet. "Your parents, Mr. Weasley, are perhaps the stupidest wizards I have ever known! How they even managed to breed you and your siblings is beyond any comprehension!" He strode quickly to the doorway. He turned, apparated their wands and flung them outwards to them.

"I will return when I have settled this problem. In the meantime, I expect Lockhart and Miss Granger to have their things brought here." He stormed out leaving a quiet room in his wake.


	26. Chapter 26

26.

After a few moments, Minerva stood and looked at Lockhart. "Gilderoy? Are you willing to stay here and attend Miss Granger?"

"Why, certainly, Minerva. It would give me nothing, but pleasure to ensure Severus does our flower no harm." He gave Hermione a light kiss on the back of her fingers.

Minerva turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, I would like you to await our return. We don't want to ward Severus' home and he not be able to get back in now, would we?"

Harry shook and then nodded his head.

She turned to Ron. "Mr. Weasley, would you care to accompany Miss Granger and myself to Hogwarts to retrieve her baggage?"

"I don't see why I couldn't stay here instead of him." Ron stabbed a jealous look at Lockhart.

"Mr. Weasley, you know perfectly well Mister Snape would not appreciate your presence. The man has enough troubles as it is without needing to argue with you everyday." She looked over her shoulder at Lockhart. "Mr. Lockhart will keep everything decent, I am sure. And... Master Malfoy will be here for several days, also."

Hermione spoke up, "what's wrong with Draco, Professor?"

Minerva gently replied, "Master Malfoy has made a mistake on request of his father. Mister Snape and myself don't wish the boy to come to any harm at his father's hand. Professor Lockhart and Mister Snape will watch over you two. I will visit as time allows. Perhaps, you would like Hagrid to drop by?"

Hermione grinned widely, "of course, I would love to see Hagrid." Hermione began to worry again, "I need to talk to you about what Mr. Malfoy did... I think I know what he tried to do to me, but I don't know why... "

Minerva patted her hands, "let's get your baggage and we'll talk when we return. The sooner you are made safe, the better for all of us, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded, "yes, alright."

Ron shot another glare at Lockhart before rising. Hermione, Minerva and Ron walked out the front door and disapparated to Hogwarts.

Lockhart gave a sloppy grin to Harry, "I don't know why I ever go away from Hogwarts. You all seem to have such interesting adventures." Lockhart went out the door leaving a baffled Harry.

***

Minerva and Ron returned with a tired Hermione, small trunk in hand, an hour later. Lockhart arrived moments after, levitating four massive trunks and a bag.

Minerva walked up the narrow staircase to the upstairs bedrooms. She listened at the first door for a moment and then passed it by. She opened the second door to see a modest bedroom with plain furnishings. She called softly down the stairs, "Miss Granger, this will be your room."

As Hermione ascended the stairs, Minerva tried the third door and discovered Snape's bedroom. It was as plain as the other and no bigger. She only knew it was Snape's because his teaching robes hung from a hook on an otherwise bare wall. She clucked her tongue and wondered where Gilderoy would sleep.

She spoke briefly to Hermione. "The first door is where Mr. Malfoy is staying. Mister Snape gave him a sleeping draught earlier, but try not to disturb him."

Hermione was affronted, "of course I would keep very quiet."

Minerva indicated the second door, "this room should do you well enough."

Hermione stepped into the room, set her bag on the bed and looked questioningly at Minerva. "Professor, can we have our talk now?"

Minerva warded then muffled the room and appraised the girl. She withdrew two small vials from her robe and handed it to Hermione. "Drink this Calming Draught, Miss Granger, and this Draught of the Living Dead and then we shall talk."

Hermione looked at the phials and shook her head, "no."

"What, Miss Granger?"

"I won't need them, Professor."

"Miss Granger, I wouldn't want you distraught. What I have to tell you may be shocking... "

Hermione drew herself up haughtily, "Pardon me, Professor McGonagall, but I am well aware of what occurred as I was there, Confounded or not. You forget I come from the muggle world where girls are assaulted everyday. Least whatever happened to me, they got scared or frightened away. I was lucky, I guess, but if I can withstand everything that's happened to me over the past seven years, hearing this shouldn't be so bad."

Minerva swelled with pride, "Miss Granger, I apologize for treating you like a child. You clearly are not." She hitched her breath and said precisely, "Mister Snape used Legilimency on Master Malfoy. He saw Draco's memories of his father ordering him to impregnate you."

Hermione flushed hot, "what? Why? Draco could have anyone. He has his father's money. He proposed to me!"

"Yes, and you refused the option. It is not a matter of money, but of talent, power and intelligence. Mr. Malfoy wants a strong heir to carry on the Malfoy line and... possibly to someday lead the Death Eaters."

"What?! You don't mean like Tom Riddle?"

"I believe so, Miss Granger. It would be unwise for Draco to return home as his father would discipline him severely." Minerva peered at her closely, "Miss Granger, what Draco did to you was horribly wrong there is no denying it, but you do agree he should be kept safe, too?"

"I suppose. Why not somewhere else? Why here?!"

"That you'll have to ask Mister Snape. I couldn't argue him out of it and he would not give me an answer."

She gritted her teeth with a dark look in her eyes, "I see." Then, "so all we have to do is go to the Wizengamot."

"We will, when we can move carefully, Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy has money as you mentioned, but he also has many connections in the Ministry as does his wife's family." Minerva shook her head angrily, "Mr. Malfoy is a dangerous man. He implied to Draco that he may take it upon himself to give you a child."

Hermione was revulsed, "You don't think? He wouldn't. He couldn't."

"That is why you must avoid Hogwarts and anywhere by yourself. Here, you will have two wizards to protect you closely all day and I trust even Draco would help against his father now. Do what Mister Snape tells you and try to be patient, yes?" Hermione nodded. Minerva cocked her head to the side, "I did not agree with Mister Snape's use of subterfuge earlier, although it was effective at the time. Tell me, Miss Granger, were you very upset at Mister Snape's pretense earlier?"

Hermione shook her head, "at first, because for a moment, I thought he'd done it out of spite for something I'd done to him."

"Are you referring to Ms. Skeeter's article?"

Hermione nodded.

Minerva looked harsh, "Miss Granger, that was a grievous error. Because of that article, The Ministry retracted their offer of the Department of Mysteries post to Mister Snape."

"I thought he turned it down!"

"No, he did not and now it will look very bad for him in the papers. Not to mention the slander of an affair, artificial or not." Minerva stared into her eyes, "what made you do it, Miss Granger?"

"I-I wanted to make someone jealous."

Minerva was dismayed, "Well, Miss Granger, I hope whomever the gentleman is, that he is worth damaging Mister Snape's reputation and opportunities." Minerva stood and looked at her coldly, "I had expectations you would mature into an eminent witch Hogwarts could be proud of. But manipulating another person for your own gain has disappointed me exceedingly, Miss Granger."

Minerva left abruptly without saying goodbye.

***

Hermione unpacked her trunk and then took a hot shower. She wasn't sleepy anymore as her anger at Professor Snape rose. She combed out her frizzled hair, donned fresh clothes and realized she was famished.

She stepped out into the pitch hall. "Lumos," she spelled which emitted a glow from the tip of her wand. Loud snores came from a room at the end of the hall. She crept past Draco's door and listened at the stairwell. She descended and peered into the living room, but it was empty.

She went back into the hall to search out the kitchen and noticed muddy prints on the floor. They were oddly shaped, not like shoe prints, but not bare feet either. She followed the prints to the study where an amber glow flickered beneath the door. She twisted the knob and entered.

The study was vast walls of crammed bookshelves, a small grouping of seats and a fireplace whence came the light. Snape was slumped in a chair, eyes shut and balancing a full glass of liquor on his thigh. His legs were stretched out and Hermione noticed his socks were muddy. Her mouth quirked. He'd left for The Burrow without putting on shoes. What a sight the Weasleys must have had!

"Uh, Professor?"

He didn't answer.

She came up next to his chair. His clothes were damp and dirty. "Professor!"

He drawled slowly, "Miss Granger, go away!"

"I will not. I want to talk to you, sir."

"It can wait 'til morning."

She shouted, "No, it can't wait 'til morning because it's about Draco!"

Snape waved his hand at the door with a scowl. "If you intended to yell, the least you could have done was silence the room beforehand."

He looked up at her, "Now, what is so pertinent, Miss Granger, that it cannot wait until we've all had a good sleep?"

"Why is Draco here?"

"Did Minerva not discuss this with you?"

"She did, but she said it was your decision that Draco stay here. She said she tried to argue you out of it, but you wouldn't tell her."

"And what of it?"

She clenched her teeth. "Why did you ask him to stay here?"

"None of your business." He shut his eyes again and said sleepily, "go drink your potions like a good girl and all will be well come morning."

Hermione was furious. She kicked him in the shin and drew her wand on him.

"Dumbledore's drawers!!" Snape dropped his glass as he reached down to his leg and the iced drink spilled over his groin. Snape hissed, tried to stand and fell back down again due to the pain in his right leg.

"How dare you treat me this way! First Professor McGonagall and now you. I will not be treated like a child!"

He spat, "Then stop acting like one, Miss Granger!" He waved at his lap and the alcohol vanished. He took notice of the dampness of his clothes, so he waved at them, too. He was suddenly clean and pressed with fresh socks. He looked up at her, "and stop pointing your finger at me!"

Hermione's wand was gone. "You give that back!"

"Not until you learn to behave." He gestured harshly at a chair and shouted, "sit, Miss Granger!"

"I won't!"

Snape gave her a thunderous look and shot to his feet, a bit wobbly from the pain, and Hermione sat very quick. Snape glowered at her a moment and then resumed his chair. He rubbed his face as he tried to calm himself. "Now, Miss Granger, let us have no more games, shall we? What specifically about Draco staying here do you object to?"

Her jaw dropped, "what do I object to? What couldn't I object to? He attacked me, sir!"

"He did, but the spells he used were no different than you or your friends have used on each other through the years."

"You must be joking?!"

Snape poured himself a new beverage and said casually, "Master Malfoy neither injured nor incapacitated you permanently."

"He attempted to rape me!"

"But, Miss Granger, he didn't and he wouldn't have."

"Then he must have been interrupted or heard a noise."

"No, neither happened. Draco had the time, the opportunity and the solitude to assault you if he wished, but as I have said... he didn't and he wouldn't."

"So, you think it's all right for boys to go around bundling-up girls in order to rape them."

"Draco was not going to assault you, Miss Granger. Regardless of his father's threats, Draco does not have the capacity to do so. In fact," Snape took a long swig, "he was rather repulsed at what he saw."

Hermione blushed and stammered, "what do you mean repulsed? Did he use that word?"

"Imagine it, Miss Granger," Snape smirked at her, "Draco was more terrified of what he saw under there, " Snape indicated her lap with his glass, "than of his own father." He took another sip and began sniggering into his glass.

Hermione was insulted, "what? He's lying, of course! That's what Slytherins and Death Eaters do and you're endangering my welfare by letting him stay here!"

"He did not tell me, Miss Granger, and I'd like you not to go about disparaging people willy nilly. As for Draco, I felt his emotions. I saw his reactions when I used Legilimency on him. He was definitely not aroused by viewing your naughty bits. He was strongly nauseated, in fact."

Hermione's face, neck and chest were extraordinarily hot. "You mean... you... saw... "

"Yes, Miss Granger, of course I saw. Draco is to be pitied." Snape took another sip and laughed, "he thought you were abnormal."

She felt all wrong inside, but her curiosity made her ask. "What did he mean abnormal?"

"Well, he's only seen bared ladies in magazines. The types of ladies which groom themselves before allowing their photograph to be taken."

Hermione couldn't believe she was having this conversation. Her ears felt all cloggy with her blood rushing about and her heart hammering.

"I have taught for a long time and many boys have passed through the doors of Hogwarts. It was the first time I have ever had to explain that your appearance was normal and all women looked like that prior to being seen in those types of pictures."

"Oh." She played with her skirt for a few moments. "So, you think his reaction will stop him from trying... "

Snape was annoyed at her, "must I spell it out to you, Miss Granger? You are perfectly safe in his presence because Draco Malfoy is a homosexual."

"Impossible! I've seen him with Pansy Parkinson."

"All to please his father. I have known Draco all his life. Simply because he has not acted on those feelings does not mean he does not own them." Snape made a dismissive gesture, "Truth be told though, I do not think he has fully admitted those emotions to himself."

"Then why didn't Professor McGonagall simply tell me this before?"

"Because, Miss Granger, Professor McGonagall is an eighty-odd-year-old spinster who wasted her life harboring love for the poofy Dumbledore. She has no concept of reciprocity."

"Oh." The room became quiet again. Snape resumed his position from whence she first spied him, eyes shuttered, legs out and glass on thigh. The moments stretched in a minute or two, but Hermione, insatiable Hermione, broke the silence.

"Professor?"

Snape shook his head and mumbled, "my life is hell."

"Since you're here... I heard snoring upstairs."

"Professor Lockhart. I've given him my bedroom to use. Where he intends to put all those clothes... "

"If Draco's in the first and I'm in the second and Lockhart is in the third... ?"

Snape raised his glass and rocked it across his forehead, letting the chilled glass cool his brow, "I shall sleep in the cellar, Miss Granger. I can easily transfigure a cot. I've already transferred my essentials."

"Oh."

He looked at her with annoyance, "what is it, Miss Granger?!"

"Sir, ho-how did things _go_ at-at The Burrow?"

"Well enough. They had difficulty at first being convinced of my sincerity due to my... condition. It seemed I'd forgotten my coat and shoes, anyway, Arthur and Molly were befuddled, as is always to be expected with them, but I explained the situation thoroughly. Mr. Potter can resume his courtship of Miss Weasley."

"Oh."

He looked at her sideways, "is there something else, Miss Granger?"

"I-I was wondering... if there was something I could eat, sir?"

He waved his hand towards a wall, "this house is not very large, Miss Granger. I have no doubt your prying nature can locate the kitchen."

She did find the kitchen, quite small, but tidy and efficient. She made a sandwich, debated and made a second. Holding two plates, she levitated a mug of hot tea and a glass of milk back into the living room. She set a plate and the tea next to Snape and sat herself well on the other side of the room.

He opened his eyes, frowned at the food next to him and asked, "Miss Granger, what is this for?"

"What does it look like?" she snapped at his ingratitude.

"Miss Granger, these circumstances we find ourselves within may be highly unusual, but this is my _home_ and you will still show me the respect I deserve!"

"Lower your voice!" she hissed. She spoke through clenched teeth, "and I _am_ showing you respect. I thought it jolly decent of me to prepare you something to eat," she indicated the of empty bottles on the table and floor near his seat, "or would you rather drink yourself into oblivion?!"

He stood to his full height and crossed his arms, "if it would rid me of the presence of the most intolerable Gryffindor I have ever been introduced to, then happily, say I. As it is, Miss Granger, the sooner you and Mr. Weasley marry, thereby eliminating Lucius' singular interest in you, the better for me to resume my humble life." He strode up to her, using his large presence to his advantage. He bit out angrily, "In the meantime, you nor no one else will presume to know what is in my best interests! Do I make myself clear, Miss Granger?"

She was mollified and nodded as she kept her eyes to the floor.

Snape paused a moment then spun on his heel, levitated two bottles and stalked out of the room.

Hermione counted the days until the school semester began. Nearly three weeks. It was going to be a very, very long nineteen days.


	27. Chapter 27

27.

Hermione awoke the following day infinitely refreshed. The bed turned out to be comfortable despite its looks and she had no nightmares, much to her great relief. She gave the two potions still sitting uncorked on the dresser a smirk, then stuck out her tongue at them.

At the window, she pulled back the heavy damasked drapery and saw... the wide and high expanse of the brick facade of another home not six feet away. She pressed her face against the glass, but couldn't figure any hint of sky.

After a lengthy shower, she dressed, slipped on her sensible shoes, inhaled deeply and prepared to meet the men of the house with her customary Gryffindor bravery.

Ginny and Lockhart were in the living room.

She exchanged a brief hug with Miss Weasley while Lockhart went off to the kitchen to get her some tea.

Ginny gave her an appraisal, "we were getting worried you were gone sleep the day away."

"I musta been more tired than I'd realized. It was a very, very long day yesterday." She noted Ginny was in a good humor. "You seem quite all right."

Ginny nodded "you weren't the only one with a long day." She then laughed, "you wouldn't have believed it! Professor Snape came to our door full sotted! Can you imagine? He was sopping wet from rain and tracked mud all over mum's floor. He shouted about Harry and I being a pair and how he was only offering me help as he wanted to see how far a Weasley could push him before he Obliviated himself."

"Does that mean then... that you... and Harry?"

Ginny's eyes swelled and she nodded vigorously, "Mum and dad said Harry and I could pick out rings. Not weddings bands, but engagement rings at least."

Lockhart came with a steaming mug, "Miss Granger."

"Thank you, sir. How are you this morning?"

Lockhart sat and chuckled, "very well and it's late afternoon actually."

"Oh! I hadn't realized." She looked back to Ginny. "Not to be too stupid, Ginny, but why are you here?"

She worried and eyed the door to the hallway. "The Professor told mum and dad it'd be best if I start a review of subjects before returning to school. Kind of a heads start or catch-up from the last semester I missed. I'm rather nervous, Hermione. Four hours a day... alone... with him."

Hermione patted Ginny's had, "Don't be so much, Gin. He's more noise than substance."

Ginny gave Hermione a cool once-over, "you must have learned that awful quick. Never thought he'd be having a romance with you."

Hermione glanced quickly at Lockhart who was grinning foolishly at her. "Well, it's not exactly an affair."

Ginny exhaled with relief, "I knew Skeeter got it wrong."

Lockhart burst out, "now come, Miss Granger. Surely you can admit to your good friend since so many of us were witnesses. That was quite the passionate kiss you two shared yesterday." Lockhart gave her a theatrical wink.

Ginny flushed angrily, "you two were snogging?"

Hermione fidgeted.

"So, Ronald was right then. I didn't believe it when he told me."

"It was-was-was an accident, sort of."

Lockhart raised his eyebrows, "accident, Miss Granger?"

"Professor Lockhart, being as you were there, you know exactly why Professor Snape kissed me. Because of Mr. Malfoy."

"Ah, Miss Granger, that may indeed be why Severus kissed you, but it hardly explains why you kissed him back, being as you were as yet unaware of Mr. Malfoy's involvement."

Hermione was irritated, "I thought it was... at least, I hoped it was... you certainly don't seem put-out about it?"

"No, not at all. As I said to Severus, he is a better wizard than I."

"You don't care that he snogged me?"

"No, no. Why should I? That's the point of these arrangements. Match everyone up before the Marriage Law takes a hand."

She bit out angrily, "exactly as you put it, Professor Lockhart. I'd thought we... were compatible. I'd thought... you were interested in me." She added nonsensically, "You're Gilderoy Lockhart!"

Lockhart laughed, "we may be compatible as friends, Miss Granger, but really... you're hardly my type."

Hermione was stricken, "not your type? Not your type!" She shot to her feet and tried to draw her wand, but then remembered the Professor hadn't returned it the night before. "You've been playing me!"

Hermione pointed her finger ferociously at Lockhart's crotch to spell a nonverbal as the man's eyes flew wide.

"Miss Granger!!!" Snape boomed.

Hermione was frozen immobile as her eyes flickered about wildly.

Snape stalked up next to her and came into her view. He worked his jaw a moment before spitting out, "at your age I find it reprehensible that I must inform you that sending a Stinging Hex at Professor Lockhart's groin is not merely vulgar, but rude!"

Lockhart clamped his thighs together whilst a red blush infused his face and neck. His hands crept downward to shield himself belatedly.

Snape turned to Mrs. Malfoy who glided up next to him. "If I had known Miss Granger was going to be so volatile, I would have incapacitated her before your arrival, Narcissa."

Narcissa gave an amused glance at the girl. She then placed her hand possessively on Snape's arm and gave him her siren's smile, "I am not the least worried for my welfare as long as you are near, Severus."

Snape returned a tight smile and turned to Hermione, "Mrs. Malfoy wishes to speak with you alone, Miss Granger. Now, are you capable of doing the immensely difficult task of restraining your juvenile behavior for a mere half hour or must I leave you as you are?"

Hermione's voice came back angrily, "I-I... "

Snape glared at her, "choose your words carefully, Miss Granger."

Hermione snapped her mouth shut and nodded sightly.

Snape sneered at her, "we shall discuss your outburst after Mrs. Malfoy leaves. As for now, she is under a time constraint so I suggest you try your best to forget you are a Gryffindor and _listen_ for a change instead of recklessly bursting off into random acts of violence. Do I make myself clear?"

Hermione nodded again and then was suddenly able to move.

Snape bowed lightly to Narcissa. "My study is yours."

Narcissa gave Snape a sly smile and asked Miss Granger to follow her.

***

Narcissa glided into the study, her skirts swishing lightly. She languidly seated herself and watched the girl. Hermione clopped into the room, slammed the door and flopped herself ungracefully into a chair opposite. She had no intention of being polite at all.

Narcissa looked down her nose at her, figuratively and literally. "Miss Granger, Severus has taken his time to thoroughly explain the actions my son took the other day."

Hermione waited. She was genuinely interested in how a Malfoy would apologize.

Narcissa spoke with aloofness, "you comprehend those circumstances were unusual for my son?"

Hermione stared at her in disbelief. Mrs. Malfoy didn't seem apologetic at all.

"What are your thoughts on the matter?"

Hermione clipped out, "what is it you want, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"You wish to speak plainly? Very well, I am concerned."

"For me? It's funny, because you're not acting at all concerned that your son tried to rape me!"

Narcissa's gaze grew colder, "your anger may be justified, Miss Granger, but let us discourse as adults, shall we?" She paused and asked unceremoniously, "what specifically are your intentions?"

Hermione examined her fingernails casually, "I haven't decided as yet."

"Any recourse you undertake would not undo what has already occurred."

Hermione continued to view her nails.

Narcissa decided to change tack, "you will be graduating in the Spring?"

Hermione was startled at the change in topic. "Yes."

Narcissa rose and strolled about the room. "Do you still wish to pursue law?"

"I haven't decided that either."

She glanced at the bookcases with distaste, "Severus has explained your academic achievements."

Hermione pondered this revelation.

Narcissa stopped at Snape's desk and sat in his chair, "high marks, unfortunately, rarely are an indicator of successful employment." Narcissa leaned back and idly stroked the worn surface of the desk with a gloved hand.

Hermione's indignation at the audacity of the woman began to rise. She bit out tersely, "no, I'm certain hard work plays a part as does drive, ambition and natural talent."

Narcissa laughed. It was a musical sound which irritated. "No, Miss Granger, you will soon learn that it is political connections which supersede those childish ideals."

Hermione bristled, "childish they may be, but they're my values. I've managed to place first so far in school. I'll get by."

"Yes, but is getting by what you really want?" Narcissa gave her a measured look, "I can ensure your standing in the Ministry. Would you like that, Miss Granger? A guarantee of a title and position?"

Hermione colored at the proposition, "a post if... if I do not approach the Wizengamot about what Draco did to me?"

Narcissa gave an elegant nod.

"So, it's a bribe then?"

"Oh, no, Miss Granger. Hardly a bribe. You would still have to work, fulfill the duties of the position, maintain the respectability of the office, but I, I can assure you, your application will go forward without questioning and with no competitors."

"And what if I don't want to work at the Ministry?"

"Why, Miss Granger, what else would you like to do?"

Hermione gave an involuntary glance to Narcissa's hand resting on the desktop. She tried to think. With her capabilities she could do anything, but proving herself was what she craved. "What if I wanted to attend a muggle university? Or, leave the country? What if I want to travel and do nothing?"

Narcissa watched Hermione watching her hands as they stroked the desktop again. Her mouth curled up in a knowing smile. She tested her theory, "Severus will be returning to Hogwarts come the Autumn. Do you think he would be in need of an assistant?"

Hermione licked her lips and tried to appear nonchalant – a horrible affectation for a Gryffindor.

"Severus will be teaching Defense and Potions. True, it will only be to 6th and 7th year students, but do you not think... Miss Granger, that Severus would need some... help?"

For the first time in her life, Hermione wished she'd been sorted a Slytherin.

Narcissa spoke coyly, "what if the position were for an apprenticeship?"

"He-he wouldn't." She looked down at her lap, self-conscious. "I'm not good enough. He's already told me that he wouldn't instruct me further in potions."

Narcissa smirked at having so easily found the girl's tendon, "Severus would offer you an apprenticeship... if I asked him to."

Oh, she wanted to prove him wrong! She wasn't just adequate, she could be much more. Hermione looked up at Narcissa with eagerness.

"You would like that, wouldn't you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded dumbly.

"Are we in accord, Miss Granger?"

"Y-yes, Mrs. Malfoy. I-I would very much appreciate receiving an apprenticeship from Professor Snape. "

Narcissa stood abruptly and went to the door. She said over her shoulder, "expect the offer in a day or so."

Narcissa left, shuttering the door after her. Hermione felt dirty. Somehow, she was manipulating the Professor, again.

***

Ginny left hours later, more at ease after her first session with Snape. Hermione had spent the time in her bedroom writing various notes to friends and family. She didn't know what Lockhart did and she didn't care. If there was any chance she could still induce him to propose... but she'd thought hard and could not come across a viable way. Draco was still in his room as the the wards around his door tingled vividly.

There was a knock at her door. She tightened with apprehension.

"Miss Granger?" came Lockhart's voice and Hermione relaxed. "Dinner is ready. Care to join us?"

"Down in a minute!" She gathered her letters and pocketed them before peering out into the hall. She was midway down the stairs when Snape called up from the hallway below.

"Miss Granger, why don't you ask Draco to come down?"

"What?! Are you balmy? Me ask him?"

"Miss Granger, Draco is more distressed by this situation that you are. His demented father has threatened him. He has attacked you against his own misgivings and desires. He is displaced from his home and now he must share that home with the very person he was compelled to assault. He is embarrassed, terrified and apprehensive as to his future." Snape drew himself together tightly and glared, "I do not expect you to forgive him, but as you and Narcissa have apparently come to an agreement in favor of not seeking judicial contest, then proffering the civil niceties will assuage some measure of his wretchedness." Snape quirked his mouth and said smoothly, "or am I the only one, as you so described it, to be so unselfish?"

Hermione tried to scowl back at the man, but she conceded his point.

She went back upstairs and tapped very softly at the first door. "Draco?" She hitched her breath and spluttered, "If you want to come down to dinner... I promise not to hex you into nothingness nor curse you with an unforigvable... though you deserve it and its crossed my mind quite a bit."

She hammered back down the stairs and ran past Snape and into the kitchen.

The evening meal was incredibly savory.

Lockhart had taken it upon himself to stock the larder, cupboards and icebox.

Somehow, Lockhart had adjusted the breakfast nook into a larger dining area which held a table big enough to sit twelve. Plenty of elbow room although the three of them silently chose to crowd one end. Lockhart had cooked a splendidly beautiful meal of glazed chicken, turnips, yams and a mixed salad so fresh Hermione could almost see a meadow. Dessert was a creamy mix of raspberries and white chocolate.

Draco joined them partway through the meal, sitting as far from Hermione as possible.

She was quite flushed, but she became more steady when she noted Draco nervously holding his utensils.

He didn't say a word until the end of the meal when Snape informed Draco he could do his share of the household chores by cleaning-up the kitchen.

Draco began arrogantly, "Can't the... don't you have... isn't there a... house elf?"

"No, Master Malfoy, so do be extra careful with my things in the washing-up or I shall have to flail you for each chip I discern whether by your hand or not."

Draco became more nervous and nearly dropped the frail porcelain cup he was holding to his lips.

Hermione was about to chastise the Professor for his vicious nature, when she noted Lockhart was grinning and the Professor was proffering a small smile. She re-evaluated his words and was surprised to realize he was being humorous. She smirked into her dessert with the novelty. She would have to pay more attention to how he said things than to his coarse words.

"Miss Granger?"

She looked up at him as he overreached her view.

"If the amusement of scratching your fork about the emptiness of your dessert plate has worn, I shall now speak to you regarding your unruliness."

Hermione dejectedly followed the man into his study.


	28. Chapter 28

28.

Snape crossed his arms and leaned against his desk in his study as he watched Hermione clunk across the floor and seat herself in an ungainly manner. His mouth twitched as he stifled both his exasperation and his amusement at the most unladylike female he'd ever encountered.

He began, "Miss Gran- "

"Will you be returning my wand now, sir?"

"Based on your actions of last night and of today, Miss Granger, it is unlikely I shall return your wand anytime soon. Besides, you have little need of it here."

"Then how am I to protect myself from Mr. Malfoy?"

"I am here, Miss Granger, as is Professor Lockhart. You are well-protected." He continued, " I want to talk to you ab- "

"May I borrow your owl, sir?"

"Whatever for?"

"Whatever for? For these," she withdrew a fat bundle of notes from her pocket.

"I do not keep an owl here, but you may utilize the birds in my aviary."

"You have an aviary, sir?"

"It is in the attic. If you wish to send any mail, sit at the desk and pull this fabric." He indicated a bellpull. He then jutted his jaw towards the ceiling where a flap of leather was nailed over a small passageway. "They come and go through there." He drew in his breath, "Now- "

"Professor, why do you have an aviary?"

"Because, Miss Granger, I have an inordinate correspondence I maintain and as my missives are often of a timely nature, I find owls not to be swift enough. Now- "

"Is there a time you use your study? I wouldn't want to come barging in."

"Generally early in the morning. As Miss Weasley will be coming here for lessons, perhaps any time after four would be convenient for you and myself."

"That will be fine."

"Now- "

"Thank you, Professor."

"You are welcome, Miss Granger, abo- "

"Are you going to offer me the apprenticeship now?"

He scowled at her heavily, "certainly not! We have already discussed that, Miss Granger. Are you purposely being obtuse?"

"So, there is no reason that you can see for reconsidering your opinion?"

"Decidedly not!"

Hermione walked over to where he stood and looked over the items on his desk, "that's peculiar."

He waited for her to continue. She sat in his desk chair, placed her letters on the blotter and pulled the tapestry. A vicious looking Harris Hawk came through the flap and landed on the desk. Hermione was frightened, but being as Snape was watching her carefully, she summed up her courage. She attached a note and off the bird flew.

Snape walked around the desk and opened a bottom drawer on the side. He withdrew a heavy jar, placing it on the desk near Hermione. She eyed the deceased contents and pulled the tapestry again.

Snape walked away and seated himself on the settee so he could watch her. Hermione continued to send off her notes as Snape's frown deepened. She eventually uncorked the jar and laid neat rows of vermin across the desktop. She placed the jar back in the drawer and sent off another letter.

"Are you going to explain yourself or are you intentionally baiting me?"

"I-I'm not baiting you, sir. I'm thinking over something. I'm quite baffled."

"Regarding?"

"What Mrs. Malfoy said to me earlier."

"Which is germain in what manner?"

"She said you would offer me an apprenticeship."

Snape was puzzled. "Narcissa said that?"

"Yes, she said all she had to do was ask you and you would make me the offer." Hermione glanced at him quickly, "she was very confident she could make you do it."

Snape's jaw tightened.

"That's why I'm so confused, because I didn't think you'd let anyone manipulate you so." She paused to let that sink in and then looked at him earnestly, "that's why I was so furious with Professor Lockhart. First, Mrs. Malfoy tells me she's going to make you do something which I already knew you were set against and then I learn Professor Lockhart has been toying with me!"

"Lockhart has not been completely insincere, Miss Granger. You are merely too self-involved to note the pretenses others undertake to survive in our world."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning... Lockhart suffers from the same social stigma as Master Malfoy."

Hermione scrunched up her face in thought. She shook her head, "that's not possible! He has all those women fawning over him."

"_All those women_ provide his income. They purchase his books, buy his signed photographs and foster his appearances at their clubs and organizations. He has little talent and his lies, while reprehensible, are innocuous and entertaining. He is unmarried, childless, in his prime and considered handsome by some although I fail to see the attraction."

Hermione stood and walked around the desk while shaking her head harder, "I don't believe you. The same can be said of you." She ticked off her fingers, "unmarried, childless, in your prime, han-... " she trailed off while avoiding his eyes.

"My life has hardly been conducive to a relationship, as you well know, Miss Granger, besides which, I am a notoriously unpleasant man who values his privacy. As for Lockhart, his penchant for flamboyant and lurid colors should have clued you to his standing. Now, when you go to him to apologize for your behavior of a while ago, simply _ask_ him. I am assured he will appreciate your candor for a change."

Hermione stuck out her lip petulantly, "I'm not going to apologize – he deserved it and you shouldn't have stopped me."

"You are a stupid, arrogant girl with foolish thoughts of romance, Miss Granger and apologizing is the least you shall do for the man."

"I am none of those things and look what pot is calling what kettle black!"

He rose to his feet and strode over to her, "I will allow that slight to go unchallenged as your youth leaves you no understanding of the complexities of genuine love, but being as there is less than two months before the enactment of the Marriage Law, this silly infatuation must end. Apologize you will as you have been toying with Lockhart's feelings much more than he has with yours."

"Oh, so it's been a silly infatuation of mine has it?! I've been toying with Professor Lockhart have I?!"

"Miss Granger, you know very well you shall be marrying Mr. Weasley before long."

"All this time I've been madly in love with Ronald?" she snorted.

"I wouldn't say it was love, but a shared affection definitely. You two will have a mutually acquiesced life together, although a very long and thoroughly dull one. In you, Mr. Weasley will have his mother all-over again to badger him about and you will have someone to reign over with your vaunted intellect!"

"Ah! So only the great Professor Snape knows the intricacies of real love! And you disparaged Professor McGonagall for not understanding reciprocity!"

His temper rose, "what are you implying, Miss Granger?"

Hermione snarled, "Don't base your analysis of _me_ on your own silly infatuation with Lily Potter. I'm hardly to take the advice of a man obsessed with a dead woman!"

He slapped her.

The moment hung... airless... soundless.

Snape opened his mouth, closed it, let out his breath and left leaving Hermione alone and bitter.

***

It was many minutes later when Hermione peeked around the study door. She listened carefully and then vaulted up to her room. She went to sleep early and had dreams of a tall wizard malevolently chasing her and then catching her with a kiss.

***

Hermione forced herself to wake early, but the study door was already shut and warded when she approached. She went into the kitchen.

A lush breakfast buffet was on the table and Lockhart and Draco were at one end having what appeared to be a pleasant chat.

"Good morning, Miss Granger!" rang out Lockhart cheerily.

Draco's entire disposition changed. He squirmed all pink.

"Good morning," she mumbled. She filled a plate and went to seat herself far away.

"Oh, no, Miss Granger, come sit down here. That way we won't have to shout, right?"

She sat opposite Draco and tried not to look at him.

"There! So much the better." Lockhart gave her a glorious smile. "How would you feel about an excursion?"

"Where to?"

"Severus mentioned your desire to visit Hagrid?"

Hermione's eyes lit up then clouded, "wouldn't it be safer," she flicked a glance to Draco, "for Hagrid to come here?"

"It would, but apparently Hagrid has an apprehension Severus will not fully counter the Reducio spell necessary to get Hagrid through the front door. Hagrid may be part-giant, but it's the part he, um, favors."

Hermione laughed, "that does sound like Hagrid!" She noticed Draco was smiling, too. "When can we go?"

"Soon as Miss Weasley's lessons for the day are ended." Lockhart pulled out a watch and moued, "another two hours, perhaps."

"Oh." They finished their meal while Lockhart kept Draco and herself entertained.

The moment they'd finished, Draco stood and begin cleaning without being asked. Lockhart and Hermione each went off to their rooms to freshen up and met back in the living room.

She eyed him a moment and began, "Professor Lockhart, I would like to apologize for what I almost did yesterday."

"What was that, Miss Granger?"

"I said, I would like to apologize for what I almost did to you yesterday. It was unladylike," she mumbled, "or so I've been told."

"Odd, I have no idea what you're referring to. I simply can't remember." He shrugged, "must not have been important so let us move on." He gave her a toothy smile. "How goes it with Severus? He was in quite the mood last night."

"Um, uh, I-I don't think it goes at all, Professor." She inhaled deeply, "I think, that is, I've heard, well, I'm afraid I've misunderstood your feelings towards me."

"What feelings would those be, Miss Granger?"

She shrugged, "that you, that I expected you to propose."

He laughed, "I'm hardly the type to propose to you, Miss Granger. It has been fun though, hasn't it? Or hasn't it? I can't recall everything."

She smiled at his absurdity, "it actually has been fun."

"There then, no harm." Draco entered the room cautiously. "Ah, Master Malfoy, come to await our departure?"

Draco didn't reply, but seated himself quietly.

Lockhart gave him a grin, "how about a game of checkers while we wait?"

***

Exactly one hour and five minutes later, Harry arrived and the door of the study opened. Harry and Ginny each gave a curt wave to her and they disappeared like a wish.

Snape came out of his study with his cloak on and gave a brief glance around the room. They stood. Snape drew out his wand followed by Draco and Lockhart. Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, but Snape went outside without looking at her. They followed him out and disapparated silently.

They apparated outside the gates of Hogwarts. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall and Headmaster Flitwick were awaiting with their wands out.

"Severus! You've brought your charges safely, I see," came Flitwick's cheery greeting.

Minerva looked them all over and her eyes held Hermione's then dropped to her empty hand. She turned back to Snape, "is everything going well, Severus?"

He gave Minerva a quick smile, "nothing prudent beatings would not contain, Professor McGonagall, but as I am certain you would disagree with my exacting corporal punishment, I was forced to retain Miss Granger's wand."

"Is that wise, Severus? Lucius is dangerous... "

"Not everyone would be able to defend themselves adequately without a wand, however, I have found Miss Granger's person to be quite capable of inflicting wandless wounds both physically and mentally." Hermione winced.

The group walked to Hagrid's post-war rebuilt hut. Not much different. Cleaner and taller in the middle.

Minerva popped inside and then back out giving them a nod. Flitwick, Snape and Minerva stationed themselves around the hut while Lockhart and Draco went inside.

Hermione paused in the doorway and glanced at Snape. He stood in his professorial way – stiffly erect, arms crossed, a sneer on his face and a very cold look in his eyes.


	29. Chapter 29

29.

"'Ave another scone, Miss 'Ermione."

"Hagrid, please. They'll have to roll me to the apparation point."

"Not like ye can't use a little more fillin', if ye don't min' me sayin's so's."

"'Course not, Hagrid. We've known each other too long, haven't we?"

"That's we have, that's we have." Hagrid bit into his scone, losing part into his beard. It was the fourth or fifth time he'd had to go searching his locks and Hermione shook her head in amusement.

"You could just tie a cloth around your beard when you eat, you know?"

"'Course could, but then it weren't look so good sittin' in the Great Hall. Can ye picture them younguns laffin' at me?"

"Oh, they wouldn't dare," Hermione stifled another laugh at the visual, "but even if they did, it wouldn't be mean spirited."

"No supposin' not. Speakin' o' mean... " Hagrid glanced at Lockhart and Draco talking quietly in a corner. "Still quite the surprise to see Master Malfoy here and in such humor."

Hermione watched the young man talking with Lockhart. Draco was very at ease. He didn't sneer so much and occasionally his face would be lit with a smile. Hermione conceded the blonde Slytherin' was quite handsome, that is, when he wasn't being such a bastard. Hermione pursed her lips, "guess it's being away from his father that's done him mostly good." She didn't think mentioning Draco's possible preference for Lockhart an appropriate remark.

"Aye, that probably be it." Hagrid paused uncomfortably and looked Hermione over warily, "Uh, Miss 'Ermione, I've somethin' to tell ya."

"Yes? What is it, Hagrid?"

"Well, uh, it be I were walkin' 'bout the grounds t'other day... and well I saw Mr. Ron Weasley walkin' about, too."

"He delivers here quite often for his brother's shop, Hagrid."

The half-giant fidgeted. "Supposin' so, but... 'e was walkin' wit Mr. Filch."

Hermione shrugged and sipped her cocoa.

Hagrid tapped his fingers together worriedly. "And... wit Misses Filch."

Hermione's brows raised in surprise, "oh?" She hadn't expected that.

"Now, Miss 'Ermione, I don' know all's been goin' on. I's not the brightest, but seems they was lookin' 'appy." Hagrid began straightening his beard. "Thought you'se should know."

Hermione gave him a lackluster smile, "'course, Hagrid. Thank you."

"And... Miss 'Ermione?"

"Y-yes, Hagrid?"

He blushed and eyed the floor, "time's be short 'fore the Ministry's Law be takin' 'fect." He cleared his throat. "And... I's wantin' ya ta know, if ye need me ta... I'd stand ups wit ya... if ye wanted me to... "

Hermione stared at him in wonder. "Ha-agrid, oh, Hagrid. That's... I mean... I wouldn't... that is.... that's the kindest thing I've ever heard." She crimsoned, "I don't, that is, thank you for the offer, but I'm working on a proposition."

Hagrid blew out his breath in great relief, "Ah, you gots your heart set, I see. Ah, good, good. Fine... fine. That be done then? But not wit Mr. Weasley?"

"Uh, no, Hagrid, and I'd rather not say right now as things could still go wrong."

"Surely, surely. Jus' 'member though. If things do... I'd still be willin'."

***

They left not long after. Snape was in the same stoic position, perhaps sterner if that were possible.

McGonagall and Flitwick walked them back to the apparation point and returned to their duties once the group had popped out of existence.

Snape unwarded his home, held the door open and shut and re-warded it after they were all inside. He went into his study and only came out for a hurried dinner. Even when Hermione pointedly asked him questions, he only gave a curt inclination of his head and silence.

It was one thing to be ignored, it was quite another for the professor to dismiss her callously.

Hermione spent the next two days pounding up and down the stairs, speaking loudly, laughing too much and rattling the knob of the study door. When he wasn't locked in there, or sitting to eat, he managed to scurry past to lock himself into the cellar. Increasingly frustrated, Hermione began snapping at her visitors.

And that is how she found herself in an increasingly heated argument with none other than her beloved Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

The third day of the professor's self-imposed disregard for her existence began innocuously enough. Ginny had her session and left quickly on the arm of a glowering Harry. Somehow, she wasn't certain exactly how, Hermione had managed to insult Harry in the lean minute they were alone before the study door opened.

Moments before Harry's arrival, she had insinuated to Lockhart that he was a one-trick-pony. He managed to give her a sad, yet comprehending look before bundling Draco off to his room to play a stupid muggle board game.

Minerva arrived to check on her which managed to raise Hermione's hackles even more.

"Miss Granger, there is no reason to shout at me."

"I am not shouting, Professor, I am trying to make my point."

"And I have explained already, Miss Granger, that we are working on a way to bring Mr. Malfoy to justice. However, it is very difficult to find corroborating evidence which is both substantial and lucid to present to the Wizengamot."

"Then you all are clearly not trying hard enough!"

"Miss Gra-"

"What am I supposed to do when school starts?"

"We have gone over this... Mister Snape, Professor Lockhart, Headmaster Flitwick... even myself will ensure your safety."

Hermione snorted, "you all couldn't keep Draco from attacking me! How the hell are you going to prevent Mr. Malfoy!"

Minerva hardened her mouth, "those wards have been changed, Miss Granger, as I have already explained. It was an unfortunate in- "

"Hah! Unfortunate? You weren't the one with your skivvies off!"

"Miss Granger!"

"Perhaps I should report your reprehensible dereliction of student safety to the Ministry."

Minerva was dumbfounded, "Miss Granger!"

"It's not like this was the first time Hogwarts has been breached. If it wasn't for Harry, Ron and myself... Professor Snape... Who knows what else might have happened over the years?!"

"Miss Granger, you know very well the extenuating circumstances for each of those incidents. All of your professors, Dumbl- "

"Don't even bring him into this! He was the worst of all!"

"Miss Granger, you don't mean that?"

The doorbell rang. The study door flew open and Snape was unwarding and beckoning in Mrs. Malfoy. Hermione felt a heavy weight settle into her legs.

Mrs. Malfoy glided through the opened door and graced them both with her smile.

"Why, Minerva," glinted Narcissa, "a pleasure to see you as always."

Minerva inclined her head, "Mrs. Malfoy. You are looking well."

Narcissa turned to Hermione with a look the girl could not comprehend. She stressed the girl's salutation in an odd way, "_Miss_ Granger."

Hermione's heart chilled. She barely gave a curtsy and responded automatically, "_Mrs_. _Malfoy_."

Narcissa gave her a quick glare before returning a grin.

Minerva spoke up eagerly, "Mrs. Malfoy, has there been any new evidence since we last spoke?"

"Hmmm, yes, there has." She turned and possessively placed her hand onto Snape's arm. She spoke his name languidly, "Sev-er-us, I would like to speak with you privately."

"Of course. My time is yours." He led her away.

Minerva scrutinized Hermione watching Narcissa. "Miss Granger?" She waited until the girl returned her attention. "Has Mrs. Malfoy threatened you in any manner?"

Hermione shook her head, "not a threat, not exactly."

Minerva tried to hide her disquiet. "Miss Granger, the Ministry is working to convince Mrs. Malfoy to give evidence against her husband."

Hermione raised her brows, but did not respond.

"While I disagree with the political procedure, if you truly desire Mr. Malfoy to be imprisoned and your safety ensured, you should show Mrs. Malfoy deference."

Hermione didn't answer. She scowled at the door as she non verbalized various spells to counter Snape's - all to no avail.

"Miss Granger?"

"It's alright, Professor McGonagall. I won't do anything to jeopardize the investigation." She quirked her brow, "'sides, everything's in my favor anyway."

***

Lockhart preceded Draco down the steps. They both acknowledged Hermione's continued stare at the study door, gave each other a questioning glance and went into the kitchen.

Lockhart began instructing Draco in the preparation of a mince pie.

"Eww, really, sir?"

Lockhart smirked, "really, Master Malfoy."

Draco continued kneading the dough, his face, hair and arms dusted with flour.

Lockhart couldn't help chuckling at the ingenuous boy.

Not too long ago Draco wouldn't have even considered assisting in the kitchen, let alone troubling himself to prepare the meal.

"Besides, once you add the brandy, it all tastes so much the better."

Draco laughed. He was more surprised than anyone at his adaptation to this new world. Free of his father's hand... and wand. Free of his mother's cloying, and rather inappropriate attentions. Free of expectations, Draco felt himself relaxing, yet still very unsettled.

What if his father went to Azkaban? What would become of him? Would the potion shop his father purchased for him go into default? If so, where would he live when his schooling ends? His father had waited on purchasing the estate. How would he get by? Would his mother lose her money, too? And even more troubling... what if his father didn't go to Azkaban? Draco shivered at the unwelcome prospect.

Lockhart leaned in to examine Draco's progress with the dough. "Ya know, that looks exactly like the backside of a man I knew in Upper Flagley... "

Draco grinned as he continued kneading while listening to Lockhart's amusing story. Lockhart had hundreds of stories, each more ludicrous than the last. Draco knew many of them were unfounded or were someone else's life, but it didn't stop the delight in hearing them. They were mostly glamorous adventures, but then there were other stories of a surprisingly sexual nature. Those Draco was positive belonged to Professor Lockhart alone. The details were too... explicit.

That was another thing... when Lockhart divulged his predilection, Draco hadn't been as shocked as he'd expected himself to be. No, he'd actually been curious and somehow... expectant.

Draco should have been rightly pissed at the thoughts he now had. His father and mother certainly would never permit him to think such things, but he began to wonder.

He scrunched up his face and rolled the dough out and thought of a fellow Slytherin. Before he'd finished pinching the pastry into the pie plate, Draco had already decided. He didn't care what trouble he'd get into or what anyone thought, he was going to owl Blaise Zambini.

***

Hermione was ensconced in a book when Mrs. Malfoy exited Snape's study and left. She didn't note Hermione's watchful gaze and Hermione did her best to pretend to be reading.

Snape warded the door and locked himself back in his study.

***

After another delicious dinner crafted solely by Draco, with a touch of verbal prompting from Lockhart, Snape beckoned Hermione into his office.

"Have a seat at the desk, Miss Granger."

A thick parchment of several sheets was splayed on the blotter. Hermione glanced at it nervously.

"Go ahead, Miss Granger. Read it. It is for your perusal." Snape went over to the settee and sat stiffly on the cushions.

Hermione began reading the papers, skimmingly and then quicker in time with her heartbeat. She glanced up several times to verify the professor had not left or moved.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

She said with precise casualness, "might I have a drink, sir?"

Snape came over to the desk, opened a bottom drawer opposite to the one with the dead animals and extracted two large glasses and two heavy bottles. One had something pinkish and the other something purple. He held them aloft and questioned her with his brows raised, "do you wish to not remember, yet enjoy yourself thoroughly, or do you wish to remember, but not regret it?"

Her jaw lowered. She couldn't tell if he was being funny.

Snape was still questioning her with the liquor.

"Uh, could you make what you were drinking the other day?"

"A wise choice." He took the pink potion and swirled the slender glass stoppers in both glasses. Hermione's brow raised. Apparently the fumes alone were potent. He then filled both with the purple liquid. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a small phial. He put five drops into his beverage with a pipette.

"What does that one do, sir?"

"It renders the drinker impotent."

"You're kidding!"

"Being as it is my own invention, decidedly not, Miss Granger."

"Wh-why would anyone need to become impotent?"

"You have comprehended my status amongst the Death Eaters. Obviously, it stays unpropitious occurrences." He scrutinized Hermione a moment and put two drops into her drink, paused and added a third.

"Oh. Is it permanent?"

"Not that I have noted as yet."

He picked up his drink, downed it whole and refilled his glass again. Snape then walked over to the settee and visibly relaxed.

Hermione lifted the dark substance to her nose. She was not proficient in alcoholic beverages, but she'd thought the concoction smelled familiar. Taking a small sip, she winced as it burned her tongue. Suddenly, much as the sensation of apparating, she felt a nothingness clouded with silence and then a warmth as crawling under a woolly blanket on a chilled night. Or, what she suspected placing her hands under a certain Professor's coat would be like. _Did I just say that? _

She took a large swallow and mulled over the contract in front of her.

After a third and extraordinarily thorough reading, she sat back in her... his chair. He was still seated on the settee, balancing his glass on his knee. Completely relaxed, he was twirling his wand casually. _Wand... wands... my wand_.

"Might I have my wand back now, sir?"

"No, Miss Granger."

"It is imperative, sir, for performing a diagnostic."

"On whom, Miss Granger?"

"On you, sir."

He smiled in a slowly disarming way, "on me, Miss Granger? I am not ill."

"A diagnostic spell to detect if you've been bewitched or placed under the Imperius Curse."

"Why do you suspect I have been placed under a spell?"

"Because you've told me you'd never offer me an apprenticeship."

He didn't answer.

"And since you are now offering me an apprenticeship in potions, I can only assume Mrs. Malfoy has hexed you."

He didn't answer.

"Has she?"

"Has who _what_, Miss Granger?"

She was becoming annoyed, "Has Mrs. Malfoy hexed you, sir?"

"No, Miss Granger, Mrs. Malfoy has neither hexed me nor bewitched me nor placed me under any Curse." He cocked his brow, "Narcissa has, however, made an offer which I have conceded will be amenable to all interested parties."

Hermione was immediately irritated. Somehow Mrs. Malfoy had gotten her thumb into Hermione's Snape pie. She snapped out, "all?! Shouldn't you have consulted me first?"

He looked at her with surprise, "is that not what I am doing, Miss Granger. The contract is satisfactory, is it not?"

"Uh, um, exceptionally satisfactory, sir. I'd say it was excessively lucrative." She flipped a page and skimmed it with a finger. "Three years with pay... supplies and a lab... paid. " She flipped to another page. "Conference trips... paid... three days a week off... the month of December and two in the Summer... an... an apartment in Diagon Alley and a settlement for a house... Sir, this is beyond generous!"

"The apartment is necessitated as you would be frequenting the clientèle as part of learning business practicals." Her pursed his lips, "also, I believe Mr. Weasley will appreciate the proximity to his brother's shop. The settlement for a house will not come into bearing until nearing the end of your training. You will require a domicile that is suitable for a Potions Mistress while providing for your burgeoning family."

"But, sir, you don't... that is, you haven't the funds for,' she waved her hand over the contract, "all of this."

"No, I do not, Miss Granger, however, I shall."

Hermione scowled, "Mrs. Malfoy is going to pay for these things?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, but in a manner of speaking, no."

She evaluated him. He was calm and open, apparently confident as to her reactions. It had been nearly three days since he'd even spoken to her and here he was... accessible.

Thinking of him pulling her into her arms and kissing her, pulling her onto his lap, she suddenly longed to touch him. She shook her head slightly. Just when had she developed a crush on her former professor? She had no idea.

Thinking back, she remembered the first time he had looked at her so openly. It was first year and those fathomless eyes coupled with his heady voice had rattled her immensely.

He had been the tallest, darkest and coldest man she had ever met at her tender age of eleven. It wasn't so much that he intimidated her, although she conceded he was perhaps the most intellectually acute, but rather the fact he could discount her presence so easily.

If it hadn't been for her proximity to Harry, would he ever have looked at her twice? Not that he did anyway despite her continuously seeking his attention.

She could abide being discounted by the other students, but him... she craved any attention he would give her. Even his glares. Even his criticisms. Anything to make him aware she was not _any_ student, she was not _any _girl. She was Hermione Jean Granger and she would do anything he wanted... if he would only look at her and talk with her like she was worthy of his time.

Hermione finished her drink, stood and came over to sit next to him closely. She turned towards Snape and looked him in the eye carefully, "Mrs. Malfoy has many connections in the Ministry."

He stopped twirling his wand, vanished it and gazed right back, "more so than Lucius."

"Is she... will she be able to get you that post over the Locked Room?"

"Narcissa may be capable of doing so, but I have not asked her to, Miss Granger."

"Is it part of your bargain with her, sir?"

"No, it is not."

Hermione said, "you know, I-I could get it for you."

He said tersely, "you are as arrogant as your little friend."

"My little friend, as you call Harry, happened to ask Shacklebolt about the post on my behalf." Hermione plucked at the arm of Snape's wool coat.

He sighed, "the post has been rescinded, Miss Granger."

She shook her head, "Shacklebolt said Harry could ask for any post... for anyone and it would be granted. Shacklebolt was adamant that if, and only if Harry asks, the Ministry would have to concede the request... no matter who it would be for."

Snape waved the hand clutching his drink dismissively, "it does not matter, Miss Granger. I do not want the position. Yes, I considered it, but it is not want I want."

Hermione let her hand rest on his arm. "What do you want, sir?"

"To teach 6th and 7th year Potions and Defense."

"But you'll have that anyway come Autumn, Professor!"

Snape gave her a smirk.

She tightened her grip and curled her other hand around his upper arm. "Then what bargain have you made with Mrs. Malfoy?"

He didn't answer.

"It's not for her money?"

He scoffed, "of course not, Miss Granger!"

She debated with herself, opening and closing her mouth before stating, "Mrs. Malfoy is beautiful."

Snape replied coolly, "that is the general acknowledgement."

"What do you think, sir?"

"Narcissa is beautiful in appearance."

Hermione looked at him through her lashes, "Is it... is it for sex?"

Snape immediately stood and walked away to set his glass on the desk. He planted his feet, crossed his arms and frowned at her.

Hermione followed him and stared intently back. "If it were- "

"Miss Granger," he clipped out, "your Gryffindor effrontery knows no bounds! I would never engage in relations with a married woman."

"I meant... that is... "

"I understand you doubt my motivations, but I would not undertake an agreement if I did not earnestly believe it would be to yours and Master Malfoy's benefit."

"Of course, sir." Hermione swallowed hard. Whatever deal Mrs. Malfoy and the professor had made, Hermione knew she still had the upper hand, didn't she? She examined the desk for an inkwell and quill. "I-I'll sign the contract, Professor."

"You can stop searching my desk, Miss Granger. I do not wish you to sign as yet."

That brought her attention up.

"There is a stipulation first." His face was hard and white. "You must annul the marriage contract you signed for me."

Hermione felt her eyes welling. "You hate me so much?"

Snape winced, "not hate, Miss Granger. A marriage to you interferes with my prospects."

She practically snarled, "prospects gained through Mrs. Malfoy?"

He inclined his head.

"And you won't tell me what they are?"

He stared at her.

"Even though I could gain them for you myself?"

He laughed, "it would be decidedly impossible for you to fulfill the specifics."

"I'm every bit a woman as Mrs. Malfoy!"

He inclined his head again with a bemused smile, "perhaps even more so, but as I have said, that is not a consideration."

"You forget I'm considered one of the most powerful witches ever to grace Hogwarts."

"Grace is a debatable verb as far as your demeanor is concerned and how could I forget your abilities as that is specifically why I have retained your wand thus far."

"I could get you anything you want, you know. Not just through Harry, but my own connections. The Weasleys. My parents have money!"

"The connections and the money do not matter, Miss Granger. Besides, your childish ruse to gain Lockhart has failed. Releasing me from the marriage contract would be to your advantage in marrying Mr. Weasley."

"If you're afraid of hurting my feelings... ?"

"Afraid, Miss Granger?"

"Seems awfully sniveling you can't face a mere woman and tell her outright why you're rejecting her for no reason. Yes, I'll say it. Coward!"

Snape's face grew even harder and whiter. He was only black and white with a red slash for lips. He drew himself together tightly and spat out angrily, "very well, Miss Granger. Mrs. Malfoy is going to present evidence against her husband. She will be divorced immediately pending trial and will be under protection as the information she has is extremely damaging. Then I shall marry her and gain the affiliation of a pureblood line." He gained height over her, "yes, Miss Granger, I'll finally rid myself of mudblood stink."

Hermione's cheeks were hot and wet. She stammered, "you-you do-don't mean that, sir!"

He spoke in the softest and most menacing of tones, "of course, I do, Miss Granger." He paused and glared at her viciously, "have I ever lied to you?"

She gave a loud sob and turned from him as she covered her mouth. What was she thinking? How could she have feeling for him when he so evidently despised her?

Blinded with tears she said, "how do I know you'll fulfill our bargain?"

Snape waved his hand at the contract which rolled itself up tightly. He then spelled Reducio and handed the shrunken scroll to Hermione. "You may hold onto the contract."

She raised her brow at him with a sneer, "that serves no purpose. Your signature must be on the contract, also. How do I know you'll sign?"

He raised his brow back at her with a like sneer, "what do you require to prove me honorable?"

"A kiss."

The shock on his face alone was worth it. He growled at her through clenched teeth, "despite what I've just told you?"

She replied haughtily as she wiped her cheeks, "specifically because of what you told me! You've managed to insult me worse than anyone, even more than Draco. I want to feel your great repulsion at my kind."

Snape stepped in very close and stared down at her with his black eyes glittering ferociously. He took her suddenly in his arms and she felt a moment of panic at his strength.

He bent his head and gave her a bruising kiss which crushed her mouth, but then dissolved suddenly into gentle nips. She remembered their first kiss when she'd thought, hoped, it was Lockhart. How she could ever confuse the two men was uncomprehending. Snape's lips were soft and his mouth firm, yet giving. He kissed her openly and their tongues tasted each other. Her senses heightened with her explorations. It was like being held underwater. Everything was distorted, swimmy, weightless and wet, so wet. She couldn't breath and she didn't care. She saw them clasped together as though watching from afar. Her toes held her up and then left the ground as he lifted her slightly in his grip. Her hands were around his neck and in his hair.

And then, he was gone and she hung for a moment on her toes before slumping against the desk.


	30. Chapter 30

30.

Snape sat on the cot in his cellar with several bottles on the floor around his socked feet. Many colors in many bottles, but he kept returning his gaze to the orange phial. He had brewed many of these little orange potions just in case the Dark Lord had demanded something extra of his favorite minion.

He smirked to himself. It was a damn clever excuse he used during the Death Eater revels. What humility he'd endured to stave off unwanted sexual attentions. And all for the want of a dead woman's memory.

It had become habitual to add the impotency potion anytime he drank. Or even when he didn't. He'd been doing so for years. Was it permanent? Obviously not given his reaction when Miss Granger was on his lap a week ago. The kiss was a brief pretense, but the longer she sat on his thighs the more aware he became of her femaleness. He had assumed, arrogant bastard that he was, that he could endure her proximity without affect. He was ashamedly wrong.

She smelled wonderful. Her fit against his body was perfection and he had unconsciously snuggled her even closer as he enjoyed her curves. The kiss on her palm was artistry until the continued presence of her skin on his chest made him hyperaware of his beating heart. Did she notice? He didn't know.

It had taken all his nerve to spell himself non-verbally while awaiting Lucius' departure.

He had taken extra measures tonight. Instead of his customary three drops, he added two more. Certainly enough to quail a Peruvian Vipertooth. Apparently not enough to quail a virgin Potion Master, though.

Miss Granger was so alike Lily Evans as to be unnerving. Both extraordinarily intelligent, bookish and talented Gryffindors with penchants for cocky and imbecilic Potters. Mudbloods to boot.

Snape uncorked the orange potion and tipped half the contents into a glass and then topped it with Firewhiskey. No, he did not want to be solvent for the next few hours. Security be damned. His home was as warded as it would ever be and Draco and Lockhart could fend off Lucius if he were so stupid as to arrive here anyway.

Snape polished off the drink with a grimace then drank another before stretching out on the makeshift bed.

Miss Granger and Lily Evans were also very much not alike. Lily was dead. Miss Granger was the most vividly functioning female he'd ever encountered. Ever since he'd first laid eyes on her when she was eleven. She was rambunctious, uncontrollable, unladylike, and chattered constantly. How much of that was the influence of Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley Snape did not know, but he disapproved of their friendship immensely. Wasn't it bad enough he had to protect a boy who should have been his own? Not to mention that sot of a Weasley? But, then to have a female chit thrown in there, too? It was inconceivable, but that was his lot and he dealt with it as he'd dealt with everything since Lily's death. With a grimace and silence and a hope that Miss Granger would move on to better things as she matured.

She didn't move on though. She was a constant bane. Waving her hand continuously in his class as if he gave a damn that she knew the answers. It was the students who didn't know that he was trying to reach.

Oh, yes, he ignored her as best he could. She was so much like Lily in class it was disquieting. Lily had been the smartest girl in her year, nearly besting himself in all their studies. Lily had waved her hand proudly having memorized whole chapters of the texts the night before while Snape sat sullenly embarrassed to be recognized at all in class. He knew the answers alright, but if he spoke up, the Marauders would remember and take it out on him after school. Better to be quiet and ace the exams than to flaunt his intelligence the way Lily did. He was more clever than that.

So, he had ignored Miss Granger for years, yet surprisingly, it hadn't daunted her regard for him. In fact, it had done the opposite. She had developed an attachment for him. Potter had told him himself that Miss Granger had defended Snape's actions for years despite anyone's rapprochement. He shook his head at the ludicrous notion. A crush perhaps? She wasn't seeking a father figure was she? There were enough positive male figures around certainly? Dumbledore and Lupin, her own father and Arthur Weasley.

He could comprehend her manipulating him in order to gain a proposal from Lockhart. It was a Slytherin thing to do and he respected her for that though he wished she hadn't slogged his name through the mud publicly. He could do that very well on his own, thank you very much, Miss Granger. What would he have done with himself if he'd accepted the Locked Room position? Gone insane very quickly, no doubt.

He did not understand this continuing desire to marry him. He had nothing to offer except himself and why would she want that? He was thoroughly unpleasant and Miss Granger must be stupid indeed to want his favors.

She, however, had a lot to offer him he admitted. She was extraordinarily powerful and would go far in the wizarding world if provided with a supportive, nurturing partner. She talked continuously about every slim thought which popped into her head. Her questions were endless. And... despite her burgeoning physical maturity, her behavior over the past week was decidedly immature. He heard her clomping around the house to get his attention. He quirked his brow with amusement. Of course, his pretending she didn't exist wasn't very adult either.

She was terribly Gryffindor. Asking him to kiss her after he had just insulted her!

Snape ran his fingers slowly across his lips at the memory.

Dumbledore had once told him he thought they sorted new students into their houses too soon. At the time Snape had been insulted, but now as he thought of Miss Granger he debated with himself. He had said the racial slur to finally and permanently drive her away, so her request for a kiss had been unexpected.

He'd thought quickly and cunningly determined to put himself upon her aggressively. To scare the boggart out of her.

Surprisingly, he'd felt himself giving in quickly to the sensation of her. She was soft and warm and inviting while firmly expressing her own desires. His body responded despite the protests from his mind.

Other females, women really, had sought his affection over the years, but he'd never felt attraction to any of them. Narcissa had tried to seduce him on her own wedding night much to Snape's juvenile horror.

Why this female? Unlike Lily, Miss Granger talked back certainly. She was more opinionated definitely. She was impolite obviously. Impetuous absolutely. And... she was unmistakably bossy. Positively demanding.

Snape frowned to himself. There was no way he was seeking a replacement mother for the one he'd barely had. He'd nearly raised himself. Fought his own battles, chose his own path, made his own mistakes. Lived with his own regrets.

_No_, he shook himself as the alcohol began to take effect, _Miss Granger has nothing to offer me at all._


	31. Chapter 31

31.

Hermione awoke the next afternoon with her first ever hangover. After Snape had left her abruptly in his study the night before, she'd absconded a bottle of brown stuff and went to her room to get sotted. And to show she was a quick learner, she'd done a thorough job of it, too.

Gingerly she toed her way down the steps and into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Miss Granger!" sang out Lockhart over a cuppa.

"Shhhhhhhh!" she waved her hands wildly and winced at her own voice.

"Ahh," Lockhart spoke quieter and winked to Draco.

She slid onto the chair and hung her head in her hands. Draco set a plate in front of her piled with rashers, mashed potatoes and grilled onions. "Ack," she pushed it away with a shake, "I'm sorry, but I don't think... not quite yet, anyway."

Lockhart spoke quietly with a pat on her hand, "understandable, Miss Granger. Tea and toast perhaps?" He arched his brows to Draco who bolted to the toaster in all eagerness.

"Perhaps," she mumbled. Her jaw worked for a moment until she was assured the room had indeed stopped moving clockwise. "Why is my head so large, today?"

"You and Professor Snape have an interesting discussion last night?"

"Yes, interesting." She squinted, "I have to talk to him immediately. How long til Ginny is through"

Lockhart grinned at her, "you've done slept through Ginny. And lunch."

"Oh." She eyed the toast and tea Draco placed in front of her. "Thank you, Draco," she mumbled.

Draco's brows shot high up on his forehead. It was the first polite thing she'd said to him since...

She nibbled at the jellied wheat bread and took a sip of the tea. Her stomach did a strong roll and she lurched to her feet. She wobbled about as Draco and Lockhart both tried to grab her arms, but she'd gained the doorway when she purged her stomach contents all over Ron.

***

Nearly an hour later and the anti-hangover potion the professor gave her had thoroughly worked. She brushed down her Scourgified clothes again and descended the steps.

It had been humiliating to vomit in front of the men, but even more so all over Ron's new jumper his mother had knit him for the hols. The rich tones of Professor Snape laughing had excited her into blushing which, thankfully, everyone had taken for embarrassment. How was she to know that Harry, Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn had just arrived, too?

She edged into the living room and looked about. They all looked at her with concern, except of course for Ron who was glowering as if she'd vomited on him purposely and Professor Snape who had thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle.

Minerva came up to her and took her arms, "Miss Granger, are you feeling well now?"

"Yes, Professor. I-I'm sorry. I hadn't realized the alcohol I drank didn't have an anti-hangover charm on it."

Minerva quirked her brow, "considering the empty in your room, no charm would have staved off a reaction to drinking an entire bottle, Miss Granger."

Ron asked petulantly, "what'dya need a whole one for anyway?" He jutted his jaw fiercely towards Draco, "he do something he oughtn't again?"

Draco jumped to his feet angrily, "what are you implying, Weasley?"

Harry came between the two men, pushing them apart with his hands.

Slughorn intervened smoothly, "now, now, children. Please. Allow Miss Granger to explain herself."

Everyone eyed her and she furtively looked at Snape. "It was nothing really. It wasn't Draco, Ron. It was... I was just feeling like I wanted to forget everything for awhile. Do you understand?"

Lockhart chirped merrily, "Miss Granger, if all you wanted to do was forget, you should have come to me. Memory charms are my specialty... I think."

Minerva, Harry, Ron and Snape eyed Lockhart with bemusement.

Minerva turned back to Hermione. "It was a foolish thing, Miss Granger. You could have given yourself alcohol poisoning or done yourself an injury in your state."

Hermione nodded understanding. "Uh, why are you all here anyway?"

Slughorn stepped forward, "Severus contacted us this morning. Said you wanted to change your marriage contract."

Ron's eyes widened in surprise as Harry whispered into his ear.

Slughorn continued, "rather than risk your coming all the way to Hogwarts to change a piece of parchment, Headmaster Flitwick suggested we bring the papers to you. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall's witness of any change is perfectly legal, Miss Granger."

"Oh, of course. I hadn't thought this would happen so fast." She stared at Snape trying to assess his emotions. She spoke to Minerva while giving him a silent plea, "if you're certain it is necessary?"

Snape continued to gaze at her blankly.

Minerva removed a tiny scroll, enlarged it and handed it to Hermione. "Time is hurrying along, Miss Granger. You should take care when making these decisions," she glanced over to Snape, "but I am pleased you have changed your mind as is Dumbledore's portrait."

"No doubt, indeed," Snape uttered with disdain.

Slughorn presented a quill and inkwell which he set onto a table. Hermione sat, drew a line through Snape's name and wrote a brief statement in the area for explaining changes made to the document. She initialed and dated, then handed back the parchment to Minerva. Minerva added her own comment, initials and date. She then directed the quill back to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, is there any addition you would like to add to the contract?"

Hermione shook her head vigorously, "No, Professor."

Eyebrows raised except Ron's and Snape's who both frowned at her heavily. Harry whispered into Ron's ear again.

Minerva pursed her lips, "Miss Granger, are you certain?"

Hermione nodded, "definitely, Professor McGonagall." She shrugged, "guess I'll have to take whatever match the Ministry makes for me."

Ron and Snape scowled. Harry gave Snape a worried glance.

Minerva and Slughorn exchanged a look. Minerva shrunk the scroll and pocketed it. The two professors headed to the door. Minerva called back, "Severus, if there is any change, anything at all, you will contact me immediately?"

Snape rolled his eyes, "of course, Professor McGonagall. Do I not always?"

Minerva gave a last concerned glance around the room before exiting on Slughorn's arm.

Hermione sat quietly and played with the folds in her skirt. She suddenly remembered and withdrew a scroll from her pocket. She enlarged it and signed the contract and proffered the quill to Snape. "Sir? As part of our agreement."

Snape signed the contract and vanished the papers, quill and inkwell. He stood to the fireplace and toyed with the figurine on the mantle.

Ron burst out, "what's that you signed, 'Mione?"

"Apprenticeship contract. Three years to become a Potions Mistress." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "It's a lucrative proposition with the most renowned Potions Master in Britain."

Snape snorted, "renowned, perhaps you meant notorious?"

Hermione continued, "I would have been very stupid not to accept, Ron."

"'Mione, you know you wouldn't need to. I'd take care of ya. You'd always be welcome at The Burrow."

"Uh, thanks, Ron, but wouldn't that be awkward what with you at the Filch estate?"

Ron hemmed, "nothin's signed, 'Mione."

"Well, best do, Ron. You heard Professor McGonagall. Not much time left."

Ron spoke sorely, "but, 'Mione!"

"No, Ron, I'm not going to marry you! I already decided who I want and since Professor Snape has finally convinced me that he doesn't want me... then I don't care anymore."

"If ya don't care, then why not marry me?"

"Ron, do you really want me to say in front of everyone?"

Lockhart grinned mischieviously, "do tell, Miss Granger. Is it something foul?"

Ron stuck out his lip, "it's still because you think I'm stupid? Is that it?"

Draco laughed, "as I've told you for years, Weasley."

Ron brought up his fist to Draco's nose quickly, "say again and I'll bloody ya proper!"

Harry and Lockhart grabbed arms to separate the men.

Hermione puzzled at Harry, "Harry, why are you here?"

"Oh, Snape, uh, Professor Snape said I would need to pass along information to Shacklebolt and the Aurors. The moment he indicated." Harry glanced at Draco who was pensively listening. "They're going to arrest Mr. Malfoy."

Snape roused himself from his stance at the mantle, "Enough time has passed for Professors McGonagall and Slughorn to be safely back to Hogwarts. Mr. Potter! First guarantee Mrs. Malfoy is secured. Use your own judgment. Do not rely on Shacklebolt's word, do you understand?"

Harry nodded and went to the door.

Ron angrily followed, "Harry, I may as well go with you." He glanced at Hermione, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. They left.

Draco asked nervously, "Professor Snape, if my father is arrested... would I... could I... that is, may I stay here for awhile?"

Snape spoke very kindly, "Draco, you may stay here as long as you wish for whatever reason you wish. Once I am assured Lucius is secured, you may come and go as you please."

Hermione asked tremulously, "and my fate, sir?"

"If Lucius is arrested, you may return to your parents... to Hogwarts... to Grimmauld Place, anywhere, Miss Granger." He gave her a thorough look, "it is no business of mine where you go as long as you are safe."

"Professor, before you oust me, would it be possible to have a dinner party?"

"If you like, Miss Granger, and I hardly am pushing you out the door. I merely assumed you would be glad to be away from here."

"Instead of assuming, you could have simply asked what I prefer. You do have the habit of making assumptions as to what benefits me without taking my thoughts into account."

"A fault of mine. Luckily, you will not have to put up with me for much longer."

"Putting up with you has been easy enough. I'd even say lucky... for me. And only _if _Mrs. Malfoy gives her testimony."

Draco quipped, "my mother would not go back on her word, Hermione. If she told the Professor she would testify, then she will."

Hermione gave Draco a tight smile, "there is more riding on this situation than you are aware of, Draco." She glanced viciously at Snape, "whole lives in fact. The happiness of several people."

Draco was confused, "what are you talking about, Hermione?"

She indicated Snape, "ask him. He thinks he has all the answers."

Snape bowed to her and then spoke to Draco, "I had not wanted to mention this so soon, but as Miss Granger has taken it upon herself to open the topic for discussion... Your mother will be seeking a divorce dependent upon your father's incarceration. If so, I... your mother will remarry... me."

Draco raised his brows in surprise. Snape shot Hermione a piercing look before returning to Draco, "it would only be after your father's trial and sentence, Draco. Weeks away. Would you find it... difficult?"

"Uh, no, sir. I guess I'd be honored to have you as a member of the family. You've practically been one anyway, long as I've known you. Mother has always spoken highly of you."

Hermione snorted into her hand before composing herself. "I'm surprised he hadn't told you already, Draco. He couldn't stop gushing about the... benefits of marrying her last night."

Snape gave her a disapproving look.

Lockhart smiled, "I could design a menu and with Draco's assistance, prepare a feast for kings. What would be the occasion for the dinner, Miss Granger?"

"To celebrate the Professor's upcoming nuptials, of course. Mrs. Malfoy must come. I'm sure she'll expect no less than a feast for kings."

Snape stared at her coolly, "now who is presuming, Miss Granger?"

Hermione and Snape exchanged hostile stares.

Draco pondered before asking, "may I invite someone, too?"

***

The next few hours passed tensely. Hermione wrote out invitations and sent them off. Lockhart worked and reworked a menu while listing ingredients he'd need to purchase. Draco sat tensely in the living room while Snape offered soothing comments.

Mutually they agreed not to sit to dinner, relying on tea to tide them through.

It was nearing nine when Harry's owl arrived. It had been a hard chase, but Mr. Malfoy was secured.

They all breathed a sigh of relief and all went to bed early.


	32. Chapter 32

32.

The next week passed in a whirlwind.

Draco went everywhere with his new freedom. He even delighted in visiting Hogwarts which he'd sworn vociferously for years was beneath his acknowledgement. With Lockhart at his side or Blaise at the door, Draco was no longer cocky, but confident. No longer sarcastic, but sedatee and eager to explore with a fresh attitude.

There were visitors a plenty at Snape's home. Aurors and Ministry officials. Mrs. Malfoy and various professors. Journalists hounding after Mrs. Malfoy and even Hagrid stood at the stoop one day for a bit, but Hermione would not come out.

Hermione, despite her longings, stayed in her room with her books. She'd asked Kingsley Shacklebolt for a listing of the eligible purebloods and had scurried to her room with the parchment in hand. She'd gone over the list once with a grimace. Most were in their hundreds.

She came out only for meals, picking apathetically while answering everyone in clipped tones. No, she was fine. No, she didn't care what Lockhart prepared for lunch. Yes, it was interesting how Mrs. Malfoy was using Lucius' financial accounts to bring him to justice rather than his Death Eater involvement. No, she didn't want to visit Hagrid. Yes, she knew Neville and Luna were on their way back before the start of semester. No, she wasn't at all surprised they'd married.

Immediately following meals, she rushed back to the solace of her room. Her room. That's exactly what she thought of it. It was drab, but functional and suited her gloom.

She didn't even go into the study. Rather, she'd leave her daily bundle of letters on the hall console for Professor Snape to send off. And he'd leave her stack of replies in the same spot for her to retrieve. It was convenient that. That console. She hadn't even asked for a sleeping draught, but there a new bottle stood each night on the little table awaiting her. She'd thought it was a show of his concern and then thought he probably merely appreciated the increased quiet.

Professor Snape. She tried not to think of him. She certainly didn't look at him anymore. Wouldn't make eye contact and gave his stupid, needling questions the silent treatment. She didn't need him anyway.

Wouldn't whomever the Ministry chooses to marry her allow her books? Of course they would. She reminded herself that's all she needed to be happy. Just as she'd told Dumbledore's portrait.

***

Snape was returning to his study with a hot mug of cocoa when he spied a scroll on the console. He was immediately irritated. This silent exchange by way of a piece of furniture was infuriating to his propriety. It was one thing to argue incessantly with Miss Granger. It was quite another to be ignored by her. Snape was not used to being ignored since... well, since anytime he chose to be noticed.

He scowled at the console and picked up the parchment which had a note attached by a string. He read:

Dear Professor/Mister Severus Snape,

Please destroy our apprenticeship contract.

I no longer require your assistance.

Hermione J. Granger (Ministry ward)

Snape slammed down his mug and just then the doorbell rang. He yanked the door open and scared the visitors with his fury.

He brought himself under control to bite out, "Mr. Longbottom... Mrs. Longbottom."

Neville nearly wet himself. It was a long time since Snape was his boggart, but the sight of a menacing Snape would undo anyone. He clamped his hand tightly over Luna's which was shivering. "Uh, Pr-Professor Snape, is-is Hermione here?"

"Of course she's here, Mr. Longbottom. She is always here. Come in and have a seat in the living room." Snape led them through and left the adjoining door ajar. "Would you care for some tea or cocoa?"

Luna answered softly, "thank you, Professor. Cocoa would be nice."

Neville stammered, "uh, tea for me, please, Professor."

Snape gave a tight smile and disappeared into the kitchen. Luna stood and went to the mantle. She picked up the doe curiously and showed it to Neville with a raised brow. He returned her look with a shrug and a moue.

Snape returned with a tray and set it on a table. He gave them an odd smile, "Miss Granger has lately been reluctant to greet visitors, but if you'll excuse me, I shall try to cajole her to come out of her room."

"Of course."

Luna poured Neville's tea quietly as they listened to Snape ascend the stairs with violence.

***

Snape meant to tap delicately at her door, but slammed his fist against the wood instead. "Miss Granger," he bit out, "you have visitors!"

She didn't answer.

He crossed his arms and spoke louder than he intended, "Miss Granger!"

Her voice came bitterly, "why can't you leave me alone?"

"Gladly once everything has been settled, however, Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom have traveled thus far to see you, the least you can do you silly brat is to give them the courtesy of speaking with them."

"Tell them I don't feel well. I'll see them at the dinner."

"Tell them yourself as I shall do no such thing." He waited, but heard no movement. "Miss Granger! If you do not open this door, I shall use force!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

Neville and Luna entered the hall below listening in concern. Lockhart, Draco and Blaise entered the house and Neville mimed silence with a finger to his lips. He pointed to the ceiling and they all glanced up.

"You forget this is _my_ house and I shall do as I bloody well please. Now either open the door like a good girl or stand back lest you get hurt." He listened a moment. "Very well, Miss Granger." He didn't unward the door as she expected. Instead, he slammed his shoulder near the frame, then again and the door buckled inward. He threw the door wide and it hit the wall with a loud bang.

"Get up from there this instant!"

"I won't!"

The crowd in the hall heard Miss Granger squeak followed by several grunts and thumps.

"What are you going to do this time? Slap me again or drag me down the steps like you did at Hogwarts?"

Miss Granger squealed plaintively and moments later Snape descended the stairs with the girl over his shoulder. She was pounding her fists into his back mercilessly.

The group watched dumbfounded with their eyebrows raised. They parted to let Snape pass with his squirming bundle into the living room.

He unslung her and dumped her unceremoniously in the middle of the floor.

Her teeth slammed together as she landed. "Oomph," she exhaled and began feeling her arse. "You've hurt me again, you bastard."

"I have yet to even the score, Miss Granger," he snarled. He withdrew the contract from his sleeve and tossed it into her lap, "what is the meaning of this?!"

"What does it bloody look like?"

He loomed over her, "if you think you're going to reinstate the marriage contract with my name... "

She laughed haughtily, "so full of yourself, aren't you? I had no intention of reinstating that ludicrous document."

He narrowed his eyes, "then why else would you want me to destroy your apprenticeship contract?"

She clenched her teeth, "as I've already written. I won't be requiring your help."

He drew himself together tightly, "and why ever not?"

"Because a kept woman by a pureblood won't need the education or the extraneous income."

"A marriage is not a lifetime, Miss Granger."

"Certainly not when my intendeds are past the century mark!"

He rolled his eyes as if that were no great disaster. "You could always seek a divorce in time or await the overturn of the stupid law. Use your brains, Miss Granger, instead of sitting on them!"

"Surely! To be passed from pureblood to pureblood? It's a marriage not a Death Eater revel or is that the same to you?"

He glared at her, "of course it isn't you ignorant child!"

"Anyway, how could I possibly seek a divorce when I'll be having the required children?"

He looked her all over with surprise.

"Or had you forgotten that's part of the Ministry's new law?" she retorted sarcastically.

He winced. He had forgotten. "Of course I hadn't forgotten, Miss Granger, it merely seems inexcusable to forgo the opportunity merely because you will be wed... or breeding."

"An opportunity for you or an opportunity for me?"

"Either... both."

She snorted, "typical Slytherin, always looking out for personal gain."

"Typical Gryffindor, reckless presumptions." He indicated the scroll. "I will not destroy that parchment. We made a bargain and I will uphold my part of the agreement. I am a man of my word," he twitched his lips into a sly smile, "speaking of personal gain... or had you forgotten how you enforced me to uphold my honor?"

She flushed, "I haven't forgotten." She raised her brows with assurance, "I wouldn't say it was so much force compelled you anyway. You certainly enjoyed yourself."

Snape looked at his shoe for a moment and then suddenly realized they were not alone. They were all watching his face carefully. His face became hard again and he gave a bow to the room, "Miss Granger, you have visitors." He spun on his heel and left.


	33. Chapter 33

33.

Ginny had just left after her tutoring session – a sour look on her face – leaving Snape to sort the morning post when the doorbell rang. He quizzed his wards, but detected nothing associated with Narcissa. He noted the early hour and mentally crossed several potential visitors from his imaginary list. There was no magical signature at all, so he opened the door more apprehensively than usual.

A pair of middle-aged muggles with extraordinarily brilliant smiles stood on his stoop.

_What could they possibly be selling?_ Snape looked down his nose on them. "Ye-e-ssss?"

The smiles became even wider. The man piped up, "uh, I'd know you anywheres from her description. You must be Professor Snape! Is Hermione here?"

Snape shifted his focus back and forth between them warily. His eyebrow lifted. _They weren't. They couldn't be_.

The woman spoke, "we're her mum and dad. Come to see her we have."

_They were._ _Oh, joy_.

He backed and bid them enter.

***

Snape glowered at his delicious oyster bisque soup. He rapped his spoon vigorously against the bowl and watched the fluid quiver. It reminded him of a certain first year student and that made him smirk.

Everyone seated at the dining table watched Snape expectantly. This was the fifth time the Potion Master had called for attention, yet each time they'd waited for him to utter something profound, he was merely toying with his food.

It was decidedly odd they all acquiesced as they exchanged silent looks.

All that is except for Hermione. She had kept her head down at her setting throughout the hastily thrown-together lunch. Currently, she was spooning her soup onto saltines to drown them. Not such unusual behavior except she had carefully arranged the crackers on the tablecloth. One salty in particular had been cleverly spelled by Hermione to look like a certain teacher. Okay, all the saltines had been spelled by Hermione to look like a certain curmudgeonly teacher. Odd that.

Mrs. Granger leaned in to her daughter, "darling, I'm sure Gil didn't go through all this trouble to have you play with your food. Remember! Starving children in America!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and made a show of eating to please her mum.

Lockhart broke in with a grin, "now, now, Mary, it is quite alright. No trouble at all! Actually, it gave me a chance to try out a new recipe." He looked around with his teeth. "Satisfactory?"

Mary beamed right back, "absolutely delectable, Gil! You must share with me!"

Mr. Granger broke in with a hard slap to Lockhart's back, "and a delicacy it is, Gil. Good show, good show of it. Fancy our girl won't be knackered tryin' ta cook for ya after all! How, _says I to her mum_, is she gonna feed that strappin' man on tea 'n sandwiches?"

Lockhart, Draco and Snape were obviously surprised. Hermione began to fidget.

Mr. Granger continued with a finger to his temple, "it'd be a quick one to realize our Hermione may be clever, but in the kit... quite balmy!"

Mrs. Granger brushed at her husband's arm playfully, "now, Wally, that be your daughter."

"'Coure it is, course it is." Mr. Granger said and kissed the back of his wife's fingers suavely with a wink, "she's gots your brains, missus, but must admit...not your skills in the scullery!"

Mrs. Granger blushed prettily.

Lockhart stammered, "uh, Mi-miss Gra-granger, surely you've written your parents about... regarding... that is... ?"

Hermione reddened and pretended to enjoy her soup.

Snape smirked, "go ahead, Miss Granger. Since you have everyone's attention. Tell them."

Hermione stabbed her spoon viciously into a soggy cracker. She spoke hurriedly, "um, mum, dad. I'm not going to be marrying Professor Lockhart after all."

The Grangers paused breathlessly then looked extraordinarily relieved.

Mary exhaled loudly with her hand to her heart, "thank goodness." She clapped her other hand onto Lockhart's arm, "Oh, I beg your pardon, Gil!"

"Uh, none taken, Mary, not at all."

Mr. Granger tried to cover, "it's... well, we've... always hoped our daughter'd be with that athletic Mr. Weasley boy. All those years she kept going on about him, ya know."

Mary turned to squeeze her daughter's fingers with a loud whisper, "was I right? Poofy?"

"Mum!!"

Lockhart covered his mouth while Draco gaped. Snape excused himself hurriedly.

The door barely shut after him when his sniggering rang out loudly from the hall.

***

"Now, explain this again, darling." Mary ran her fingers along the headboard in Hermione's bedroom. She examined her fingertips with a raised brow. _Clean. Drab, but clean_.

"Mum, I've already told you. I'll be waiting for the Ministry's law to take effect. They will select a pureblood wizard for me."

Mary moved to the drapes and peeked behind. Her eyebrows shot up again. _Bricks_. "Why can't that Malfoy boy marry you? He's quite the looker and a gentleman I'll bet."

Hermione twisted her skirt in her hand, "Mum, he couldn't... he can't... he's like Professor Lockhart."

Mary next checked over the dresser. She held up a potion bottle and extended it to her daughter with a puzzled brow.

"Sleeping Draught."

"Would you prefer sleeping pills?"

Hermione shook her head, "this doesn't leave me sloggy the next day."

"And why would my daughter be needing this at all?"

Hermione shrugged and picked at the coverlet, "dreams, is all."

"Nightmares?"

"Just dreams."

Mary stared carefully at her daughter before dismissing the topic. "And... Sev?"

Hermione moued, "it's Professor Snape, mum. He doesn't like being called by his first name."

Mary waited patiently as a mum is wont to do where her only child, particularly her daughter, is concerned.

Hermione felt her cheeks heating, "he... Professor Snape is not a consideration."

Mary noted her daughter's reaction, "and why not?"

"He's planning to marry someone else... Mrs. Malfoy."

"Misses?"

"Well, it's a story, mum, but Mrs. Malfoy is getting a divorce. In a couple weeks, Professor Snape and she will... then they'll be married."

Mary opened a drawer and casually began refolding her daughter's clothes. "Definitely not Ronald?"

"Mum!"

"Are you certain?"

"Quite."

Mary spoke over her shoulder, "no one else then?"

Hermione stuck out her lip, "no one else."

Mary tsked to herself and began matching up socks.

***

"Really, Sev, the missus and I could scamper off to an inn. We've plenty lolly in our pockets." Wallace paused and added conspiratorially, "dentists, ya know."

Snape gave the man a wane smile, "as I've told you, Mr. Granger, it is no trouble at all to put you up for the night. It would assuredly offer you more time with your daughter and while my home is not grand, it is comfortable. Master Malfoy has graciously offered his room, isn't that correct, Draco?"

"Of course, Professor." He turned to Wallace, "Mr. Granger, it won't do to have you come this far to see Hermione and not stay. I'll gladly bunk with the Professor down cellar."

Mr. Granger squinted closely at the blonde boy, "you quite certain you're poofy?"

Draco tinged pink under the observation.

Snape's mouth curled like milk, "Mr. Granger, Master Malfoy is decidedly out of contention for your daughter's hand."

Wallace clucked his tongue, "shame that." He tapped his finger to Draco's nose. "The grandchildren would be keen and quite handsome indeed."

Draco brightened at the unexpected compliment. "I'll just move my things." He stood and gave a curt bow before scampering upstairs. He passed Mrs. Granger and Hermione as they descended.

Wallace watched Draco leave and shook his head, "shame... damnable shame." He turned back to Snape who was watching him with open amusement. "And you, Sev?"

Snape startled and narrowed his eyes with trepidation, "what was that, Mr. Granger?"

Hermione and her mother took seats. Lockhart came from the kitchen.

Mr. Granger inclined his head towards Lockhart, "are you like Gil and Draco, Sev? Not that we mind, of course, just tallying, just tallying, Sev."

Hermione covered her laugh as the professor's eyes widened..

Snape settled himself into a chair with his arms tightly crossed. "Decidedly not."

Lockhart grinned broadly, "no harm in Wallace asking, eh, Severus?"

Mary voiced, "Hermione tells me you'll be marrying a Mrs. Malfoy, Sev?"

"If the situation unfolds accordingly, Mrs. Granger."

"When's the happy day?"

Snape gave her a confused glance, "pardon me, Mrs. Granger? What happy day are you referring to?"

"Your marriage of course."

He shook his head slightly, "that has not been decided upon, Mrs. Granger. There are extenuating circumstances regarding Mrs. Malfoy's current status which must be resolved prior to an official engagement."

Wallace jabbed a finger at Snape, "there, there. You sounds jus' like a teacher when you talk like that."

The doorbell rand and Lockhart brought Ron back into the room.

Hermione's voice screeched, "Ronald! What are you doing here?"

Mary shushed her daughter, "now's that anyway to greet company, dear?" She gave the boy a hug and cupped his cheek. "Ronald Weasley, how good to see you!"

Wallace grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him to a chair, "long time, my boy, long time."

Snape stood and gave a brief bow, "if you'll excuse me."

He disappeared into his study until dinner was called.

***

As Snape had invited Ron over to spend the evening, he was expected to stay to dinner. It was a sullen affair with Hermione trying to catch Snape's eyes while he had apparently chosen a point midtable to stare blankly at throughout. He answered questions curtly and otherwise ignored everyone.

Lockhart and the Grangers did their best to keep the conversation rolling, but it was obvious to all there was an elephant in the room waiting to proverbially drop it's shoe.

After they went into the living room, Snape was about to retreat to his study again when Mrs. Granger asked if he'd join them in some games.

Cards were brought from a sideboard, but being as they were seven and not four, Ron bravely asked Snape for a round of chess.

Lockhart jumped up from his position across from his bridge partner Hermione. "Ron, I shall take you up on that offer! How about checkers?"

"Checkers? That's hardly a challenge at all."

Lockhart proffered his seat to Snape who pushed Draco into it instead. "I think Draco would be a better match than I against the Grangers. I do not play bridge."

The moment Snape's hand left Draco's shoulder, he bounced up from the chair. "But, sir, I do not play bridge either."

Snape said softly, "then perhaps, being as it would be in Miss Granger's favor, she should choose her partner."

Hermione swallowed thickly. "Professor Lockhart, please?"

Lockhart acquiesced as Draco gathered a book in a corner.

As all of this action took less than a minute, it would have been amusing indeed to see it yourself. Then again, none of it would have happened at all as you would have made eight and a second table for bridge set out.

Snape silently metered out measures of wine to those about the card table. He gave himself and Ron each a Firewhiskey and sat down to take what he assumed to be a quick beating.

***

Two hours later, Ron chuffed out his breath and reset the board again.

Snape raised his eyebrow slowly. "Really, Mr. Weasley? How many times do you wish to best me?"

"Til I know I've won fair... sir."

"Fair, Mr. Weasley? Are you accusing me of deception?"

"I've played against enough to know when someone's not on their game. You're letting me win."

"Am I? How discourteous of me."

The next match took much longer. Snape tipped over his queen and readied to stand.

"Another."

They were midway when Ron spoke up, "I know what you're trying to do, ya know?"

"Do elucidate the inner workings of that abstruse mind of yours, Mr. Weasley."

"It's not gonna work."

"Perhaps, I know this will be arduous, rather than being so irrepressibly you, you could exhibit some charm."

"Charm, eh? Not gonna work."

"Where is your Gryffindor temerity, Mr. Weasley?"

"Whatever that is, don't matter no how."

"Your pessimism is noted, but is founded on what particulars?"

"The particulars, sir, that she done kippered off to bed an hour ago."

Snape looked around in surprise at the near-empty room. Only Mr. Granger remained, wriggling his wine glass in cheer at the acknowledgement.

Snape glowered, turned back and bested Ron in three fast moves. He stood and inclined his head, "I'll make this simple, Mr. Weasley. Propose and propose again until Miss Granger agrees. I know she has a difficult time keeping her mouth closed, but she cannot help hearing your sentiments."

Ron headed to the door to go home, but gave a sorrowful look. "No, sir. It won't matter."

"And why not, Mr. Weasley?"

"I get 'Mione contracting for you to make Professor Lockhart jealous, but that's over. Yet, she still didn't contract for me and we're as close as butter on bread." Ron frowned, "there must be something about you then, sir. Something only you could give her."

Snape opened his mouth to argue when the wand in his mind lit up.

His eyes skittered about the room. He saw the floor-to-ceiling bookcases he had erected over the years, stuffed full and creaking with tomes. Then there were the books in his study and in his old office at school. Why, Miss Granger didn't even know of the volumes in his school bedroom or in the attic here. Of course, the silly thing spent more time in Hogwart's 4th floor library than even Madam Pince and that was considerable. Miss Granger wanted him for his library.

Snape rubbed his chin and bade Ron and Mr. Granger a good night. Ron left with a nod.

Mr. Granger sat a while longer mulling over the situation. Much as his wife had taken over the observation of their daughter, Wallace had critiqued the suitors. Discounting Gil and Draco left...

Ronald who was surly and boyish, yet easy and affable. Not the brightest log in the fire, but definitely a pleasing fellow - likable.

Sev was gloomy and oddly immature in a way Wallace couldn't pinpoint. He was also taciturn, obviously intelligent and only displayed the modicum of manners necessitated.

It was quite clear Hermione took a lot of interest in Sev and none at all in Ronald. Her eyes darted to him frequently and she had the habit of holding her breath when she knew the man was about to speak.

Whereas Ronald looked at Hermione often and he initiated conversation, Sev didn't look at her at all. In fact, Sev went so out of his way in ignoring her existence that it was conspicuous.

Wallace chuckled as he finished his wine and thought of elephants - pink and white.

***

Snape cleansed and freshened himself in his bath off his small cellar laboratory. He thought of the Grangers and gave a little more attention to his crooked teeth.

Donned in his nightshirt, he sat on the cot and reached under to extract a phial. He piped three drops to the back of his tongue, reset the bottle and stretched out.

"Nox," he whispered and the wall votives winked out.

"Sir?" Draco's voice came from the other cot placed at a discreet distance.

"Yes, Master Malfoy?"

"I don't remember an orange sleeping draught. What was that potion you took?"

"Impotency."

"I'm sorry, sir, I hadn't real- "

"It is for, Master Malfoy, not against." He could hear the boy fidgeting. "Don't worry so, Master Malfoy. It has no bearing on you. I have been taking this potion nightly for many years."

"Since Harry Potter's mother... ?"

Snape thinned his lips. From anyone else he would have been stirred to anger, but he genuinely liked Draco. "Yes."

"Sir, will you continue taking the potion after you wed mother?"

"Most likely, Master Malfoy."

"I understand, sir." Draco stared up at the ceiling where moonlight reflected through a window. "I know you probably don't have feelings for her, sir. I-I don't think she really does for you either."

"Your assumptions are correct." Snape considered the agreement Narcissa had outlaid. In exchange for her turning information against Lucius, she would give Snape his connection with a pureblood family and she... she would acquire Snape. Much like a painting or a rare book. He was merely something for her to obtain. An accessory for her shelf.

"I think, sir, that I will like having you as a father."

Snape winced. "Mast-... Draco, merely because I will be wedding your mother does not make me your father. You already have one and I have no intention of replacing his position in your life."

"But, sir! He-he hasn't been a proper father. If you knew all he's done to me... I'd rather he be Avada Kedavra'd than sent to Azkaban!"

Snape swung around hard on the cot, "Draco! I shall not hear any more of this! Your father he is and your father he remains. The idea that you want Lucius killed infuriates and repulses me. No matter what he's done, he has still managed to raise a boy I am proud to know!"

Snape stretched rigidly back out, his anger throbbing in his temples, wand fingers wriggling with anticipation. "Never wish for the death of anyone... particularly of any family member for it might come true leaving you alone and bitter."

Draco listened to Snape breathing hard with ire. He'd learned the man's secret upon achieving his own Dark Mark when he joined the Death Eaters. Once indoctrinated, malevolent pasts were recounted to the new recruits to instill fear and solidarity. Not all the hidden knowledge was horrifying, but Professor's Snape's had been.

Snape's father had driven his wife to commit suicide not long after he'd been enrolled at Hogwarts. And Snape's father? That had been the Dark Lord's desire. Snape would have to kill his own father to gain the Dark Lord's favor. And he had. Tobias fell to Snape's Avada Kedavra which gained Snape the position of being the most trusted lieutenant to Voldemort. A position which allowed Snape to beg for the life of his precious Lily and for Voldemort, secure in Snape's willingness to do anything for him, to grant the request.

Snape's breathing slowed and relaxed.

Draco spoke softly, "you still have family, sir. An uncle I believe."

"It is my maternal great-uncle Otto to which you refer. Hardly a consolation as he spends everyday all-day having an extensive lie-in."

"Least it's someone, sir."

Snape humphed and said, "tell that to his neighbors who are always killing him."


End file.
